69 Shades of Grey, a SYOT
by 69pussydestroyer69
Summary: Please read! Gonna be epic! Rated T cause it's the Hunger Games. Chapter 1 has been edited to include the tribute forms. Finished the pre-games and now moving onto the actual games! 11 tributes remaining, vote on my profile which of the eligible tributes you want to win.
1. Chapter 1

Arena

Giant Medieval Castle

-Starting out in the knight's courtyard

-Guillotine traps around doors

-Creepy portraits whose eyes follow the tributes

-Basement has jail cells and a fully-equipped torture chamber

-Secret passageways

-Crocodile moat

-Stuff in drawers

-Food in kitchens

**Tribute forms and edits. Stuff I changed and comments is in bold. **

Full Name: Gaston LeGume, submitted by Gaston is my bae **Dude, did you rip off Beauty and the Beast?**

Nickname, or name they go by if any: Bae, swagger, gaston the man and awsome ...**Just Gaston.**

Gender: Male. Hes the malest male there is

Age: (thanks to Jms2 for letting me know I forgot this) 18

District: 2

Backup District: 4

Reaped/Volunteered: Volunteered

If Volunteered, why?: He got in a fight with adam over a girl and decided 2 volunteer so he could impress her. Plus hes the coolest dude in panem so why wouldnt he want to be in the games? **Ok yeah you did. **

If volunteered, name of person volunteered for: adam got reaped and he was pissed that gaston volunteered. They get into a fight and gaston kills adam by farting on him **Adam volunteered, and Gaston contested him. They fought on stage and Gaston beat Adam by farting on him.**

Appearance: long black hair tied back in a ponytail, blue eyes, muscular, tall and blue eyes. Very hot. **Has a huge ass.**

Personality: Hes very manly if u havent got that yet. He was too cool to train at the academy and has a lot of fangirls. Hes a flirt and hits on any girl in da WOOOORLD. Hes smart and is awsome. Hes athletic and can win any fight. **Loud and obnoxious, farts a lot.**

Likes&Dislikes: Hunting, flirting. **Belle. Making an ass of himself.**

He dislikes not being able to poop and adam being a whiney bitch and reading.

Catch Phrase: no one competes in the hunger games like gaston

Hobbies: sports, flirting with girls, running and huntinh

Relationship status: he doesnt want to be single but adam dates the one girl he loves...belle. He wants to marry her and would kill to date her (wjich he does by killing adam).

Strengths: smart, strong, athletic, good singer and hunting **Oh my god no. Ok I'll give you strong and athletic but that's it.**

Weaknesses: he has 1 weakness. He has chronic constipation and never taken a dump in his life. It makes him sad. **Dumb and hated by everyone.**

History: he gets bullied by his family for his pooping problem and hates them. So he plans to kill them ojr dah.

Family: momma legume, daddy legume, broski and maurice

Friends: his bff is lefou. Hes dumb and has an ugly nose but gaston sticks by his side. But lefou poops in front of him which makes him mad

Rich/Average/Poor?: average

What are they doing pre-reaping morning: taking laxatives and sitting on toilet **I didn't write this guy's POV but ok, sure that's what he was doing.**

Reaping outfit: (Details) red shirt, black pants and boots

costumes: hes naked for the chariots **Knight in armour.**

Interview outfit suggestions: suit

What they do during the training days: ally w/careers and learn stuff

What they show gamemakers: arrow and bow, climbing, running and dumbbels

Training score: 11

Token in the games: a roll of toilet paper

the games: idek what this means

Open for alliances?: ya...careers

Open for Romance?: no. Unlesss belle is in games.

Weapon of choice: bow and arrow. But he also has very deadly farts

Bloodbath, participated or ran away: hes in it and kills 5 people

General Strategy for the games: stick w careers and sit on them at end of games and fart on them

Preferred death: one day gaston gets a gift from his sponsor. He gets a plate of enchiladas, a plate of tacos and some fajitas. He eats it all and ends up pooping for the first time in his life. He cant stop pooping and died. **Dude, I thought I was a troll but you put me to _shame_. **

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><p>Full Name: Andreea Moore, submitted by guest<p>

Nickname, or name they go by if any: gimme Moore ;)

Gender: female

Age: 15

District: 7

Backup District: 11 **I used this one**

Reaped/Volunteered: reaped

Appearance: light brown hair, brown eyes, pale skin, voluptuous build for her age. Average height

Personality: slutty, manipulative **Great, interesting.**

Likes&Dislikes: likes to manipulate and have guys wrapped around her finger. Hates school and when the attention isn't on her

Catch Phrase: fuck me

Hobbies: sleeping around, trying to break up relationships, seducing **Loving this character.**

Relationship status: not in any actual relationships

Strengths: seductive and manipulative

Weaknesses: no skill whatsoever with battle, not very intelligent due to her lack of concentration in school and everywhere else

History: grew up in a poor household so learnt to manipulate to get food and necessities

Family: mother and daughter are very alike. Five siblings (mother kept getting knocked up) father left her family. Andreea is the eldest child. Dom (f) 12. Adam (m) 10. Sandy (f) 9. Lizzie (f) 5. Tuscan (2).

Friends: no friends.

Rich/Average/Poor?: poor

What are they doing pre-reaping morning: making out with Beatrice Pennevict's boyfriend, Donovan shore. Andreea just snickers as Beatrice finds them and her boyfriend tries to make excuses.

Reaping outfit: a dirty brown dress that is too small for her and therefore very short and revealing. Her boobs are too big for it. Black shiny shoes she was able to convince donnovon to steal for her so he could get favors

costumes: slutty black tight clothing

Interview outfit suggestions: tight red dress

What they do during the training days: flirt with all the males and try to get them on her side

What they show gamemakers: tries to flirt with them but resorts to parading around and tying regular nots as it is the only thing she can do

Training score: either really low because she sucks or pretty good because her flirting worked

the games:

Open for alliances?: yes

Open for Romance?: yes

Weapon of choice: takes a dagger

Bloodbath, participated or ran away: ran away

General Strategy for the games: befriend the strongest guys and get them to do the dirty work

Preferred death: stabbed

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><p>Full Name: Niahm (Pronounced Neeve) Steavlen, submitted by Abbycoraby123<p>

Nickname, or name they go by if any: NA

Gender: Female

Age: 17

District: 7! **I used 6**

Backup District: 5

Reaped/Volunteered: Reaped

If Volunteered, why?: NA

If volunteered, name of person volunteered for: NA

Appearance: Red hair that ends at her shoulders. Big, Pale blue eyes. Pretty lips, that don't smile often. A few freckles that dance on her noes (please don't over exaggerate the freckles just because she is a red head.) Tall and slender. Oddly small feet.

Personality: Sweet, shy, doesn't smile to much, and when she does smile it completes her whole look. She wouldn't kill anyone unless they are threatening her or her allies. Although she is shy, she likes to adventure off sometimes. **Silly, obsessed with boys, dumb.**

Likes & Dislikes: Likes- Adventuring, Reading (mostly at night), and she LOVES her pet bunny (she calls her Cinnamon). Dislikes- Bullies, having to watch the games, being in the games, and will not stand for people taking advantage of her.

Catch Phrase: I would like her to say this in the story-"You know, sometimes the quietest are the bravest. So, I guess that means you are as scared as a deer in hunting season" **Might use this.**

Hobbies: She has taken up jogging, reading, and adventuring.

Relationship status: She knows she will find "the one" someday, but she hasn't yet. **Single as hell. **

Strengths: Hiding, running, hand-eye coordination, and climbing

Weaknesses: Hand to hand combat, swimming, killing, and being bold.

History: She was practically ignored by her family, so she would always take off into the woods for time alone. She liked to explore and once she almost got caught sneaking out after dark (which isn't allowed in ANY district.) She has one friend named Anya, but they don't really talk much. She has a pet bunny named Cinnamon that she keeps in her room. She had to give it to Anya when she was reaped. She told her where it was when she visited her at the reaping. **Normal family life, brings Cinnamon with her. **

Family: Her mother who wished she had boys instead of girls. Her father who is never home, he is always in the lumber yard (7)/at the factories (5). Her younger sister Silvia who is 13 id pretty nice, but has more friends than Niamh can count, **Normal family life. **

Friends: Anya, a quiet girl who keeps Niamh company. She has pale blonde hair and big brown puppy dog eyes.** The voice of reason.**

Rich/Average/Poor?: Average

What are they doing pre-reaping morning: She is walking through the woods with Anya. **She goes on an adventure with Anya by taking a different route to the square for the Reaping.**

Reaping outfit: (Details) A pale green sleeveless dress that ends before the knees. She is wearing white heels that her mother wore at her wedding. Her hair is left down.

costumes: 7-A tree (again). 5-A light bulb?

Interview outfit suggestions: A tight pink dress with no straps. Ends at knees.

What they do during the training days: Trains with crossbow (yaaaaassssss), makes some friends, leaves careers alone, and does the obstacle course a lot.

What they show gamemakers: Crossbow skills and Obstacle course.

Training score: 5 or 6

Token in the games: a ripped out page from her favorite book, Tom Sawyer. ** Tried to bring Cinnamon but was rejected by the review board.**

The games: She should hide in a secret passage way she found behind a painting. She does that thing where you put something in the handle on her side so o one can get in on the other with a flashlight.

Open for alliances?: Sure, but only with one or two other people.

Open for Romance?: Okay, why not

Weapon of choice: Crossbow all the way

Bloodbath, participated or ran away: Ran away from that mess.

General Strategy for the games: Hide, don't kill unless necessary

Preferred death: A spear was thrown at her from the back, but she (hopefully) made it to the final 8.

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><p>name: Claire Mckenzie, submitted by the scout12<br>name she Goes By:mckenzie  
>Gender:female<br>age:15 **Dude no, she's a Career. Let's make her 18. **  
>district:2<br>back up district:4  
>volounteered<br>reason: younger sister lucy aged 12 was reaped she was meant to be a carer but hadn't started training so mckenzie volunteered **She was chosen to volunteer this year.**  
>apperance: 5:9 blonde slight but strong sorta built blue eyes <strong>Macho chick<strong>  
>personality: tomboyish dosnt give a dam but can be emotional<br>likes and dislikes: likes food and dislikes caser flickerman  
>catch phrase: well shit happens does anybody have any food <strong>Shit happens<strong>  
>strength: amazing with a sword, can run and fight with speed but she's not a official carer also swims like a fish<br>weakness: is afraid of heights and afraid of getting ditched  
>family: mother died at a young age mysteriously<strong> so she and her sister were sponsored by a wealthy couple from the Capitol.<strong>  
>friends: boy back home who is gay called jason<br>average :  
>pre reaping morning she was training with a sword <strong>and mailing a letter.<strong>  
>reaping out fit: blue dress with white collar<br>what they do training days: spear trains and gets into a fight with someone from district 9 know survival skills but does them and sword fights and nearly kills the instructor  
>game makers: sword fights and throws knifes then she paints a picture of her mother knowing the capitol had something to do with it and the result is enormous<br>score 11  
>token a ring with gold celtic lines<br>open for alliances  
>open for romance<br>participated the bloodbath and survived  
>weapons of choice : sword or knifes<br>strateGy: her and her district partner kill all the other carers on 3rd night and run away breaking the alliance until...  
>preferred death old age I'm just kidding slit throat<p>

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><p>Full Name: Jessamine Arianna Reiss, submitted by Hestiaabnegation11<p>

Nickname, or name they go by if any: Jess or Jessa

Gender: F

Age: 17

District: 8

Backup District: 4 **I used this one**

Reaped/Volunteered: Reaped

If Volunteered, why?:

If volunteered, name of person volunteered for:

Appearance: Blonde hair, greeen eyes, slim, shy look about her

Personality: She is actually very shy and quiet and doesn't like to talk to people. But when you get to know her she warms up to you and will immediately become your friend. Jessamine is intelligent and humble, and is loved in the district.

Likes&Dislikes: She likes to hang out with her family and friends on the weekend and she doesn't like snakes or spiders. **Painting. **

Catch Phrase: Fight Smarter Not Harder **"A true master can make art with any brush."**

Hobbies: Fishing, Sewing, Coloring, Drawing **Main hobby is painting**

Relationship status: Single Pringle

Strengths: Knives, Ability to remain calm (Which most people do not posess...) **Art, keen eye for details, swords most weaponry, patience**

Weaknesses: Swords, most weaponry, patience **Low self esteem**

History: Her best friend died when she was young because of a bombing on the district. She is really angry at the Capitol for it and will show them her hatred in the arena. His name was Alec and he was everything to her. **Dreamed of being a famous artist but was too poor to buy the necessary supplies so she tried to make her own. She met Alec one day when she was painting in the cemetery and he complimented her and became her best friend. He later died in the Hunger Games. **

Family:

Friends:

Rich/Average/Poor?: Average

What are they doing pre-reaping morning: At the Cemetary **Painting something for Alec. **

Sorry my mom is making me get off so I will have to PM you the rest later

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><p>Full Name: James Hunt <strong>Lustre Cardonell, <strong>submitted by ZTEBladeCM11

Nickname, or name they go by if any: Jim/Jimmy **Lustre**

Gender: Male

Age: 18

District: 1

Backup District: 2

Reaped/Volunteered: Volunteered

If Volunteered, why?: He's the best in training for the current year.

If volunteered, name of person volunteered for: Random name (he volunteers before any name is called).

Appearance: Tall and Muscular with spiked Blonde hair and blue eyes.

Personality: Confident and smart. He is a social person and enjoys the fame.

Likes&Dislikes: He likes to do physical activities like training and such and hates the classes on survival techniques. He likes the concept of hunger games but doe not like to kill, a shock considering he is a career but he will kill if need arises.

Catch Phrase: No one messes with me unless they want to be humiliated. **TBA**

Hobbies: Training while using weapons, outdoor activities and such.

Relationship status: He is popular with girls and has a lot of date but no one struck him as serious choice.

Strengths: Physical Strength, Adept with weapons, Smarter than other careers, will get sponsors.

Weaknesses: He is a target from early on, Not really athletic (in the sense of running, flexibility or gymsntics). **Fuck this, he's athletic.**

History: He had a good childhood until his patents were killed in an accident when he was just 8. He started training while in an orphange. He was the only child and hopes to win the games and get himself recognition and a good life. He has no one left and he will not be truly missed by anyone. **Parents died in a car crash a few years ago. He lived by himself ever since. He started training when he was 5. **

Family: None, his parents died in a car accident when he was just 8 years old.

Friends: All appear friendly towards him but none is really special. **Best friend is Tia, his training partner. **

Rich/Average/Poor?: Average - he has inherited his parents fortune but is not able to use it in the orphanage.

What are they doing pre-reaping morning: Training, last minute preperation, jogging, working at the centre.

Reaping outfit: (Details) A muscle shirt with a pair of ripped jeans shorts.

costumes: Expensive robes with a crown - He should look like Zeus, a king.

Interview outfit suggestions: Just a simple tuxedo that shows his built.

What they do during the training days: Weapons, shows his skills and gathers allies.

What they show gamemakers: His skill with all weapons.

Training score: 10+

Token in the games: Nothing. **Personalized signet ring, a gift from Tia.**

the games:

Open for alliances?: Of Course.

Open for Romance?: Yep.

Weapon of choice: Sword/katana.

Bloodbath, participated or ran away: Participated

General Strategy for the games: Go straight to the cornucopia and defend his supplies. Later go with his group to explore the castle. He will always keep a bag full of supplies with him, for worst case scenario. In the end, he will become victor by defeating his opponent.

Preferred death: No death, he will win but just in case he will like to be defeated in the hands of a worthy opponent.

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><p>Full Name: Julia Hill, submitted by ZTEBladeCM11<p>

Nickname, or name they go by if any: Ju **Julia**

Gender: Female

Age: 15

District: 12

Backup District: 11

Reaped/Volunteered: Reaped

If Volunteered, why?:

If volunteered, name of person volunteered for:

Appearance: About 5'8, Long straight blonde hair, curvy figure - one of the best looking girls from the district. **Dude, if she's from the Seam she ain't blonde. ****Black hair, olive skin, grey eyes.**

Personality: Shy and Intelligent. Given her natural beauty, she is popular with boys but is wary of them. She is mostly left alone, isolated. This led her to become observant and resourceful. She is a fast learner and able to think straight in tough situations and emerge victorious.

Likes&Dislikes: She likes the nighttime. The darkness and silence of night are her best friends. She dislikes the boys who just want to get inside her knickers.

Catch Phrase: She is the perfect combination of beauty and brains. **TBA**

Hobbies: Reading and gaining knowledge. She is observant due to reading numerous detective novels. Survival guides have helped too. You will always find her in a quite corner of a library with a book.

Relationship status: She is popular with the boys given her gorgeous looks but after a disastrous date, she did not ate again and will not until she finds a right candidte.

Strengths: Power of observations, will get a lot of sponsors, she is a quick learner and will adapt quickly. Is quite fast and flexible due to gymnastics. She is the smartest tribute in the arena this year.

Weaknesses: No experience of weapons/combat, no outdoor life, does not possess strength to fight careers.

History: Her mother dying if illness changed her. They are poor and cannot afford medication. Her father work in the mines and does not have a lot of time for his family. Her younger brother Matt (14) loves her and vice versa. They are usually the sole companion of each other. They usually do not mix with other children their age given their background.

Family: Mother dead, father average and a loving younger brother.

Friends: No friends as such just some classmates she can go to in nescessity.

Rich/Average/Poor?: Poor.

What are they doing pre-reaping morning: Chatting with her brother (their pre reaping ritual for the past years).

Reaping outfit: (Details) A blue sundress that looks really good on her.

costumes: Bare body with coal dust.

Interview outfit suggestions: A strapless black dress with coal textures.

What they do during the training days: She learns to use all weapons and shifts her focus to learning essential survival skills to win.

What they show gamemakers: She shows them her adeptness with survival techniques and ranges weapons.

Training score: 6-8

Token in the games: A bracelet gifted to her by her brother at age 5.

the games:

Open for alliances?: Yes, only if it is a small alliance with outline district.

Open for Romance?: No.

Weapon of choice: Any range weapon - archery, darts, slingshot, etc.

Bloodbath, participated or ran away: Ran away taking whatever is lying next to her spot on the ground.

General Strategy for the games: She runs away from the cornucopia and joins her alliance if able to find. Later she leave the alliance at top 8 and goes solo. She is nimble so she will try to go by unnoticed. Using her brains she will win.

Preferred death: A quick and painless death, not tortured or suffering.

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><p>Full Name: Jeremiah Dipper, submitted by Cairn Destop<br>Nickname, or name they go by if any: Bumper **Dip**  
>Gender: Male<br>Age: 17  
>District: 9<br>Backup District: 4  
>ReapedVolunteered: Reaped  
>If Volunteered, why?:<br>If volunteered, name of person volunteered for:  
>Appearance:<br>The best word would be average. He stands just under six feet with dirty-brown hair. (That's its color) He has brown eyes and several zits are always on his face. He prefers non-flashy outfits, but never suits. **Good description.**  
>Personality:<p>

A little too cocky about his skills as a pickpocket. His ability to blend into any crowd makes him the perfect stall. He is the guy who bumps into you, apologizes, and disappears in the crowd while his partner cleans out the target's pockets.  
>He doesn't like others pointing out his faults, which is one reason why he keeps failing the school of ten bells. (A pickpocket school) He sometimes does rash things when confronted, such as joining a smash and grab gang for a quick score.<br>He keeps himself in excellent physical condition, but avoids confrontations that might expose such talents. His primary goal is always to be good, but never good enough to draw attention. **A cheerful thief, cocky. **

Likes&Dislikes:  
>Likes: Magic. He sees such skills as furthering his thefts. His one honest occupation, street magician, he does to supplement his illegal one. - Alcohol. He has a habit and has lost days blacked out. <strong>Occupation as a con man. <strong>

Dislikes: Anything that is flashy. He prefers staying in the background. - The great outdoors. He is city born and raised. To him, trees are for strays to water.

Catch Phrase: Always another mark.

Hobbies: He uses a gym to pump iron and exercise. If he isn't practicing his skills as a thief, he is practicing his magic acts. He is studying various escape tricks at the time of his reaping.

Relationship status: Unattached. He'll date if asked, but is wary of asking. That could draw attention he doesn't want.

Strengths: His dexterity. Knots he has mastered, locks are something he can do, given the time and tools. **Picking locks, picking pockets.**

Weaknesses: His desire to remain in the background makes him volatile when confronted. Pushed far enough, he will attempt things he shouldn't do. **Overconfident about his abilities. **

History:  
>He'll tell you one of two sad stories. Either orphaned and raised by the guy running the gym, or abused by parents until he ran away at age ten. Neither is true. He heard so many stories about his uncle's life of crime that he moved into the gym's back room at eight years of age. Since then, the uncle has groomed him in burglary and pick pocketing, both non-confrontational crimes. The police have caught him a few times, but as a child, managed to avoid any punishment beyond a firm tongue lashing. <strong>Befriended a Peacekeeper named Rosmerta who always bails him out when he's in trouble.<strong>

Family: The parents have tried getting him home, but gave up after two years. Though he lives with his uncle, none of the other gang members know about the family relationship. Bad for moral per his Uncle Sid. **Al knows. **

Friends: Anyone in his gang he considers a friend. Loyalty from others he expects, but he'll sell his if it helps him. His best friend, and partner, is Al "Beanpole" Hipster, the best dip in the district. As a team, no mark's pocket is safe. **Rosmerta, a Peacekeeper who for some reason hates the Capitol.**

Rich/Average/Poor?: Money means nothing to him. When he has a lot, he gives in to his vice, drinking. When he has none, he's crashing in the gym's back room. His finances are a constant rollercoaster.

What are they doing pre-reaping morning: Jeremiah Dipper joined a smash and grab gang that hit several stores the night before reaping. A stray dog and a chasing peacekeeper equaled a night in the local jail.

Reaping outfit: (Details) It is everything he never wanted, flashy and a real attraction getter. It is bright orange with black lettering that reads prisoner. Instead of shoes, he has a ratty pair of bedroom slippers. Two guards stand next to him in uniform. He is in cuffs, both leg and hands. When they call his name, he'll push the guards away, having picked the locks on his wrist. Just before he climbs the steps, the guard will remove the leg restraints. Jeremiah will kick the guard and rush onto the stage knowing the guard can no longer touch him since he is now a tribute. **Steals the escort's ring.**

costumes: No suggestion, though the more attractive the worse he'll like it.

Interview outfit suggestions: He'll convince his mentor to highlight his criminal past by wearing a black and white striped shirt and orange pants. He knows he needs to attract sponsors, so for this one night, is willing to go counter to all he wants.

What they do during the training days: He sticks to general physical conditioning. He will practice with various weapons, but he never displays any killer instincts or proficiency with anything.

What they show gamemakers: Talk about a glib tongue. He convinces one of the scorers to come down to the gym. He twirls the fellow as if he were dancing, once, and sends him back. Once the gentleman sits, Jeremiah offers the guy's wallet, handkerchief, cuff links, tie pin, and a picture of the guy's mistress.

Training score: 4 - his lack of any weapon proficiency will have him score low.

Token in the games: None. They confiscated everything when he was arrested and nobody wants to be seen with him before departing for the Capital. That's right, he will have no visitors.

the games:

Open for alliances?: Yes, but don't expect loyalty. He understands the sole survivor nature, so will try eliminating his alliance friends in such a way as to divert suspicion from him.

Open for Romance?: Yes

Weapon of choice: He'll want something that allows up close and personal, fast, and quiet. Knife, brass knuckles, or even a garrote.

Bloodbath, participated or ran away: Depends on his alliance. If they stay, he'll keep to the fringe, ready to flee if the odds shift against them.

General Strategy for the games: He'll use his skills as a thief, stealth, to eliminate the competition one by one. Each death will affect him more than any of the other tributes.

Preferred death: One of two possibilities. He runs from pursuit, crashes through some brush that obscures his path and falls off a fifty foot cliff or onto the blade of an unsuspecting tribute. A lucky kill.

He finds himself a more proficient killer than he ever imagined, which horrifies him. With victory in sight, say less than three tributes, he takes the snare wire, climbs a tree, and hangs himself.

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><p>Name: Zeon Thatcher, submitted by webelieveinfanfiction<p>

Nickname, or name they go by if any: Zeon

Gender: Male

Age: 16

District: 4 (Or any district, in case you dnt hav a male tribute from any district, you can use Zeon for dat district!)

Backup District: any district, in case you dnt hav a male tribute from any district, you can use Zeon for dat district!

Reaped/Volunteered: Volunteered

If Volunteered, why?: Cuz the guy was his boyfriend! **For the money.**

If volunteered, name of person volunteered for: Walt Hotchkiss

Appearance: Similar to Finnick! (I dnt care abt appearances!) **Like a stereotypical flamboyant gay. **

Personality:Similar to Finnick! **Sex-obsessed.**

Likes&Dislikes: depending on d district he comes frm!

Catch Phrase: "I'll fuck you no matter what!', "Oh! I'm feeling soo exotic!" **Yeah... I don't think I'll be using those. TBA**

Hobbies: painting, swimming, singing and whatever you feel like! **Orgies, making out with random strangers.**

Relationship status: with Walt Hotchkiss **Multiple boyfriends and girlfriends at the same time.**

PS- I want you to make this character very confused, if used. for example, you can make dis guy fuck a guy and a girl during d games and make him wonder whom he loves more, the guy or d gal! This character can become the winner or can die in d process, but, I feel this charcater can make a very good protagonist, like Harry Potter. He's d protagonist of d HP series but nobody likes him! **What the hell dude?**

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><p>Full Name: Derek Walker<br>Nickname at home: The Loner **Duke Derek**  
>Gender: Male<br>Age: 17  
>District: 8<br>Backup District: 8 is open right now, but if you have to change it, any spare district will work.  
>ReapedVolunteered: Reaped  
>Appearance: Light Brown hair, brown eyes, average height.<br>Personality: Standoffish **Lazy, bored**  
>Likes: Being left alone, silence<br>Dislikes: Nosy people, loud noises **Lazy people**  
>Catch Phrase: Whatever (I don't mean that I don't care; it's literally "Whatever")<br>Hobbies: Writing (he won't talk about emotions to anyone, ever)  
>Relationship status: Alone (he's too unfriendly)<br>Strengths: Fists, his mind (when he tries) **Number one street fighter in District 8.**  
>Weaknesses: people skills, fairly easily startled ( because of the explosion that killed his parents)<br>History: An orphan since he was eight, parents died in a factory explosion, younger brother died of disease, only friend died in the games **Dad walked out on him before he was born, only child, mother died in a factory explosion when he was eight.**  
>Family: None<br>Friends: was only one, a dead tribute, now none  
>RichAverage/Poor?: in the community center  
>What are they doing pre-reaping morning: wakes up early, writes, argues with another 17 yr old orphan (this is the community center, after all) <strong>Gets into a street-brawl, leaves them there. Originally, someone else was called, but since he's unconscious in an alley he never signed in so the escort drew Derek instead. <strong>  
>Reaping outfit: (Details) White shirt, brown pants, dark brown belt<br>costumes: ? (what do you mean)  
>Interview outfit suggestions: Cold grey tuxedo, black tie<br>What they do during the training days: wrestling, survival skills, anything (all halfheartedly)  
>What they show gamemakers: Wrestling, fire lighting<br>Training score: 6  
>Token in the games: None<br>Open for alliances?: Yes, if they come to him  
>Open for Romance?: Yes, if anyone will approach him (and give him some room)<br>Weapon of choice: Fists  
>Bloodbath, participated or ran away: Grabbed the closest items and ran<br>General Strategy for the games: Wait it out  
>the games: ? (what do you mean)<br>Preferred death: Won't go down without a fight

* * *

><p>Full Name: <strong>Tiara Carter, submitted by 69pussydestroyer69. <strong>  
>Nickname: <strong>Tia<strong>  
>Gender: <strong>Female<strong>  
>Age: <strong>18<strong>  
>District: <strong>1<strong>  
>Backup District: <strong>1<strong>  
>ReapedVolunteered: **Volunteered**  
>Appearance: <strong>Blonde hair, green eyes. <strong>  
>Personality: <strong>Bubbly, friendly.<strong>  
>Likes: <strong>Girl stuff<strong>  
>Dislikes: <strong>Gaston<strong>  
>Catch Phrase: <strong>"This simply won't do!<strong>**"**  
>Hobbies: <strong>Shopping<strong>  
>Relationship status: <strong>Single<strong>  
>Strengths: <strong>Trained all her life<strong>  
>Weaknesses: <strong>Not very bright<strong>  
>History: <strong>Training partners with Lustre since they were five. <strong>  
>Family: <strong>Normal family life. <strong>  
>Friends: <strong>Lustre<strong>  
>RichAverage/Poor?: **Average**  
>What are they doing pre-reaping morning: <strong>Unimportant<strong>  
>Reaping outfit: <strong>Unimportant<strong>  
>costumes: <strong>Unimportant<strong>  
>Interview outfit suggestions: <strong>Unimportant<strong>  
>What they do during the training days: <strong>Unimportant<strong>  
>What they show gamemakers: <strong>Something<strong>  
>Training score: <strong>9<strong>  
>Token in the games: <strong>Personalized signet ring<strong>  
>Open for alliances?: <strong>Career<strong>  
>Open for Romance?: <strong>No<strong>  
>Weapon of choice: <strong>Swords<strong>  
>Bloodbath, participated or ran away: <strong>Participated<strong>  
>General Strategy for the games: <strong>Work with the Careers<strong>  
>the games: <strong>Work with the Careers<strong>  
>Preferred death: <strong>TBA<strong>


	2. District 12 Reaping

Thanks, ZTEBladeCM11 for submitting.

Julia Hill, 15- District 12 Female

"Tea's done, how's the sandwiches?" My brother Matt called, as he screwed the lid on top of our ancient, cracked thermos and packed it carefully in a basket.

"Almost ready," I replied, wrapping our crust sandwiches in a handkerchief. Crust sandwiches were basically crusts placed between the slices of bread they were cut from, we could never afford meat and cheese like the Merchant families in our district. But food was food and who am I to complain?

"Done, let's go," I said, slipping the sandwiches into the basket. It was our yearly ritual, before the Reaping me and my brother would have a picnic in the meadow and talk about school, life in general, and everything under the sun.

As I walked out the door I made sure to touch the picture of my mother on the wall, "Bye mom, miss you." I said softly.

"Do you think mom can hear you?" Matt asked, "I know you still talk to her sometimes but..."

"I don't know Matt, I just like to think she's listening."

Our mother died when I was eleven, from scarlet fever. The doctors in town had the medicine, but we couldn't afford it. No one from the Seam could. I can remember feeling powerless, watching my mother slowly slip away and not being able to do anything. She wouldn't even let me touch her, in case I would catch it too. I know that my father, if anything, felt even worse. During that period, he started working double shifts in the mines, trying to save up for the medicine. He couldn't get the money on time, and my mother passed away silently in her sleep when he was at work. Dad kept working double shifts after her death, he just couldn't get over the guilt of not being able to save her. Sometimes I worry about him, it can't be healthy to work so many hours a week.

"Did you remember to leave something out for dad?" Matt asked, as if reading my mind.

"Yeah, I left him some biscuits and an apple. He deserves a treat." Reaping day was probably the only holiday he got all year.

We spread a blanket over the ugly, yellow grass in the meadow and unpacked our lunch.

"So what's new with you, little brother?"

He shrugged, "nothing much, flunked my math quiz this week and forgot to do a book report."

"Matt, you know school is important." I groaned.

"Why? I'm just gonna be a coal miner when I grow up, what's the point of learning this stuff anyway?"

"Because you're a smart kid, you could easily be top of the class if you put in the effort. And you don't have to be a coal miner, you could be a blaster or surveyor if you do well in math and science."

"But they're _boring_, and Mr. Hastings hates me. He'll never write me a recommendation for the specialization streams." He sighed as laid down on the grass with his hands behind his head.

Seeing as this conversation was closed, I laid down as well and watched the clouds drift by.

"What does that one look like to you?" I asked, pointing to a random cloud.

"Ummm," he screwed up his face in concentration, "a lump of coal?"

I laughed, "I guess you can say that, what about that one?"

"Another lump of coal."

"That one?"

"Another lump of coal."

"Are you going to say that for every cloud?"

He turned to me and gave me a wry grin, "Yeah."

I laughed and shoved him playfully on the shoulder, "Matt, no wonder your teacher hates you."

He frowned, "Julia, you're really pretty," he said all of a sudden. Although I was used to getting compliments on my looks, he took me by surprise.

"Thank you Matt, you are quite handsome as well," I said mockingly, bowing into a curtsey.

He frowned. "When you grow up, you're gonna find a husband and get married right?"

"I-I suppose that's what's going to happen." I said slowly. I had never really thought about it before, finding a husband and getting married seemed so far away. I didn't even have a boyfriend at the moment, even though a few boys had asked me out.

"And then you'll leave and disappear, like mom did, won't you?" Matt pouted, crossing his arms across his chest.

I sat down in front of him and looked him in the eye, "Matt, no matter what happens, I'll always be your sister. Even when we're be married, and have our own kids and different lives, we'll still have our sibling talks and I will always be there if you need me. I won't disappear from your life. I promise." I said, gently.

He gave me a watery grin before crushing me into a hug. "Thanks, Julia."

I smiled and ruffled his hair affectionately, "Come on Matt, we have to get ready for the Reaping."

We headed home and changed into our respective reaping outfits. Matt wore a white dress shirt with brown trousers, a hand-me-down from dad. I wore a hand-me-down sun dress from mom. Once upon a time it had apparently been a cornflower blue color, but by now has faded to a dull grey. It was still a very flattering dress, the colour matched my eyes perfectly and it fit like a glove.

"You kids ready for the Reaping yet?" My father emerged from his bedroom, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

"Yes dad, we're just about to head out now." I replied, brushing out my long, dark hair. My father stared at me for a long time.

"My little girl," he said softly, his eyes filling up with tears, "You look more and more like your mother every day."

"And you," he said, turning to Matt, "are growing up to look like a fine young man. Good luck today, both of you." he said, as he enveloped us into a bear hug.

We set off once again, this time to the square. I said goodbye to Matt as we lined up in our respective lines to sign in.

I found myself standing in a clump of fifteens from the Seam. We all exchanged terse nods and then focused our attention on the temporary stage set up before the Justice Building. When the town clock struck two, the Mayor stepped up to the podium and began to read the same speech he reads every year and introduced our escort. Bright and bubbly as ever, Effie Trinket trotted to the podium and gave her signature, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favour." It was time for the drawing. Effie Trinket said as she always does, "Ladies first!" and crosses to the glass ball with the girls' names. She pulls out a slip of paper. The crowd draws in a collective breath and then you can hear a pin drop.

_Please, not me. Don't pick me, don't make me break my promise to my brother. Don't make me disappear from his life forever. _

"Julia Hill!"

A/N This SYOT is still open! For some reason that I can not fathom at all, I'm having a hard time getting tributes. The form is on my profile.


	3. District 1 Reaping

Lustre Cardonell, 18- District 1 Male

_Work-out Schedule_

_Monday-Barbell Bench Press, Incline Bench Press, Shoulder Presses, Dumbbell Raises, Chest Flys_

_Tuesday-Leg Presses, Barbell Squats, Hamstring Curls, Leg Extensions, Calf Raises_

_Wednesday-Rest_

_Thursday-Seated Rows, Lat Pulldowns, Bent Over Rows, Barbell Shrugs, Dumbbell Hammer Curls, _

_Friday-Chin ups, Barbell Deadlifts, Dumbell Bench Press_

_Saturday-10 Mile Run _

_Sunday-Rest_

_98-_

_99-_

_100_

I set down the barbell with a grunt and grabbed my towel and water bottle, taking a long glug. _Damn_,_ feels good to work up a sweat_. Normally, I would warm down with a 2-mile run on the treadmill, but today's the day of the Reaping. I showered quickly and jumped onto my bike, nearly getting flattened by an oncoming car. What the hell?! I had the green! All the way home I kept thinking about the number of careless drivers on the road, pedalling furiously until I was passing the traffic on the highway. In no time at all, I arrived in front of my apartment.

"I'm home," I called. As always, there was no reply. I've lived alone ever since my parents died in a car crash a few years ago. It still hurts when I think of them, like a hole in my heart that keeps growing, but that might be the memories of my own injuries. I was pretty busted up too, a punctured lung and fractured skull, with random cuts and bruises, but I managed to pull through. It was a miracle I survived. I walked to the fridge and poured a glass of milk, dumping in a scoop of protein-whey powder. Taking a sip, I leaned back in my chair and watched the ceiling fan make its lazy rounds and sighed.

"Mom, dad, if you could see me now, top of the class this year's District One's tribute."

"That's great sweetie, I always knew you could do it!" I said in a high-pitched voice out of the corner of my mouth.

_"_Yep, we're real proud of you, son,_" _I continued in a deep voice out of the corner of the other side of my mouth.

I let out a low moan, laying my head on the dining table, "Urgh, talking to yourself again, Lustre? That's the first sign of insanity." Living by myself, it gets a little lonely. Well, actually more than a little. I probably would have gone crazy years ago if it wasn't for-

_Ding Dong_

"Lustre! Yoohoo! Open up it's me!"

Right on time. I opened the door to a frizzy blonde grinning manically. She began wheeling in suitcase after suitcase into the suddenly cramped apartment.

"What the hell, Tia? You moving in?" I joked. Tiara Carter had been my training partner ever since we were five. As a pair, we topped the class at eighteen.

She rolled her eyes. "No, silly, I just brought a few potential outfits so I can coordinate with what you plan on wearing to the Reaping."

I gestured to my outfit, a muscle shirt and ripped jeans. "Well this is it." I tried to hide my smirk as her jaw hit the floor

"Why so surprised Tia, you know I wear the same thing every year " I teased.

"But-but- this year we're volunteering! This simply won't do!" She sputtered.

"Aw, come on, look at it this way: standing next to this," I gestured to my outfit "think of how good you'll look in comparison." She glared at me.

"Well what do you want to do? I haven't done laundry for a month and all the shops are closed. This is what I'm wearing and you're going to have to suck it up," I said, watching her nearly throw a fit when she realized I was right.

"You-you- alright," She sighed, her shoulders slumped in defeat. "You win."

I smirked. I always won.

"So which dress would look better, the cerulean or teal?" She asked brightly, holding up two identical dresses.

"The teal," I lied.

"Alright," She said, flinging off her clothes onto my face and pulling on the dress. She unzipped one of the suitcases.

"Now which shoes would look better, the pumps or heels?"

I sighed. This was going to take a while.

After she finally finished picking out her dress, shoes, accessories and doing her hair, make-up and nails she pulled a small, wrapped box.

"Happy Reaping day!" She chirped. Ever since we were twelve, it was our tradition to exchange Reaping gifts before heading to the square. I pulled off the bow and opened up the jewellery box to reveal a silver signet ring. This particular seal was a lion in mid-roar, with my name engraved underneath.

"I got myself one too, but with a tiger, see?" She said, flashing her own ring. "Now we have matching tokens for the Games!"

"Oh joy," I said sarcastically, shoving the ring on my finger. I actually wasn't planning on bringing a district token, but now I guess I have to.

"I got you something too, Tia," I said, walking to the fridge. Every year I would buy a box of assorted sweets from our favourite pâtisserie, _Le Chatte D__émolisseur _for us to eat together after the Reaping while watching the recaps and discussing potential contenders.

"Yay, dibs on the mille-feuille!" She cheered, peeking in the box, then rewrapping it before walking out the door. I wondered why she was taking it with her before I remembered that this year we'll be eating on the train instead of coming back to my place.

"Race you to the square!" She called from the elevator.

"Hey wait! No fair!" I ran after her as Tia pounded on the close button, diving in just as the doors closed. I landed right on top of her.

"Watch it, you're crushing the pastries!" She yelped, giggling madly. "This simply won't do!"

I grabbed the elevator bar and got up, accidently catching a glimpse of my reflection in the mirrors. Spiky blonde hair, ice-blue eyes and a strong facial structure, I realized with a pang that I looked just like my parents. But this time it didn't hurt. Because as me and Tia laughed harder and harder, the hole in my heart became smaller and smaller.

A/N I need tributes. All spots except for what was posted so far is open. Form is on my profile. 69pussydestroyer69 out.


	4. District 4 Reaping

Thanks HestiaAbnegation11 for submitting.

Jessamine Grey, 17- District 4 Female

_Green, white, gray, shades of blue._

My hands flew across the paper, splotches of homemade paint appearing on my clothes, not that I cared. When I'm in the zone, nothing else mattered. After one final stroke, I turned the sketchbook around.

"Look at the way the seagull's flying Alec, he's practically floating on the cloud." There was no reply from his gravestone.

"Today's the Reaping, I wish I could fly away too," I sighed, blowing on the paper so the paint would dry faster. "another year till I'm safe."

Contrary to popular belief, District 4 was not a Career District. One and Two only let us hang around because District 4 tributes were athletic from swimming and hauling nets of fish. And maybe because we all had weaponry knowledge from physical education at school. And maybe because we had a few nut-jobs who purposely trained and then volunteered for the honor and riches. Alright, maybe we were a Career District, but we didn't have volunteers _every_ year.

Take Finnick Odair for instance, he was reaped four years ago at fourteen. Today, he's Panem's heartthrob and 'the most sensual man alive', according to Capitol Couture.

Two years ago, Alec Rodriguez was reaped at fifteen. Today, he's pushing up daisies.

I packed up my supplies, bottles of watery paint made with crushed berries and paintbrushes fashioned from my own hair bound to twigs. Real art supplies were out of the question, which used to devastate me when I was younger.

* * *

><p>When I was younger, I would watch 'Painting with Petape' every night. ("Remember kids, an artist is only as good as his or her tools!") I used to be so ashamed of my own pitiful supplies that I would only paint in places no one would ever go, like the fish-waste storehouse or the school during holidays. I met Alec one day when I was painting in the cemetery. I never thought that anyone would visit the cemetery at the crack of dawn. He had laid down a bouquet of our district's purple wild flowers in front of a grave next to me. I didn't even hear him, I was that deep in the zone. When I had finished painting and turned around, I could see him watching me. Embarrassed, I quickly covered my work.<p>

_"What's that?" He asked, pulling my arms away from the paper._

_"None of your business," I mumbled_

_"It's really good."_

_I snatched it back and crumpled it up furiously. "It's not. Of course it's not! I'm not a real artist! How can anything I make be good when I don't even have real paint or brushes?" I spat, throwing my painting on the ground._

_He picked up the sheet of paper and smoothed it out gently, "Because a true master can make art with any brush."_

He opened my eyes to how blind I was. I realized that it was alright to call myself an artist. When Alec died, I stopped painting for a month. My parents had always disapproved of my painting, it was a just waste of time and paper, they always said. For the longest time, I felt like a piece of me was missing, and I attributed it to Alec's death. When I was finally ready to visit his grave, I brought his favorite purple wild flowers. I sat with him hours, just reminiscing this and that. When I got home, I dusted off my sketchbook and added a painting of him from my memory, and found the piece of me that I was missing. I didn't know why I ever stopped, Alec wouldn't have wanted me to give up on my dreams.

* * *

><p>I ripped off my newest painting from my book and placed it gently under a stone on his grave. Getting up, I hauled my satchel over my shoulder and headed to the square for the Reaping.<p>

When I got to my pen, everyone was whispering nervously.

"What's going on?" I asked a girl from my class.

"Didn't you hear Jess? It's just terrible!" She moaned. "None of the eighteen-year-old girls plan on volunteering this year, whoever's reaped is going!" My heart sank. As much District Four disliked being labelled as heartless Careers, it was worse to see a kid walk to their death against their will. And this year, that kid might be me. Suddenly, my stomach clenched and I felt like throwing up. I nervously braided and unbraided my long blonde hair, waiting for the Reaping to begin.

At two o'clock, the mayor stepped up to the podium and gave the same speech he did every year. After the video, he introduced our escort, my childhood idol, the famous Petape Pastel. Tall and elegantly coiffed, her appearance was actually more striking in real life. She click-clacked in her towering heels to one of the enormous fish bowls and plucked a slip from the top. She unfolded it and cleared her throat.

"Jessamine Grey."

Just my luck.

Praying that the rumours weren't true and that we did have volunteers this year, I walked to the stage and slowly mounted the steps.

Petape turned to the crowd, "Do we have any brave young women who would like to volunteer to represent District Four in the glorious 69th Annual Hunger Games?" She asked brightly.

The square was as silent as a grave.

As she walked over to the boy's bowl I began calculating my chances. One in twenty-four. But around half die on the first day and I'm not stupid enough to participate in the bloodbath if I'm not part of the Career pack. One in twelve. And even though I never planned on volunteering, I was competent with most weapons. More than competent actually, I was definitely better than any non-Career tribute. One in six now. And I'll hopefully be far away when the Careers start turning on each other. Maybe one in three. The remaining Careers will probably be injured while I'm well-rested when we get to the finale. I can hopefully pick them off after they split up while I still have the advantage.

I might be able to win, but only if everything goes according to plan.

A/N I still need tributes, especially males! Form is on my profile.


	5. District 11 Reaping

Thanks Guest, for submitting.

Andreea Moore, 15- District 11 Female

"How did you get so good at this?" Beatrice Pennevict's boyfriend, Donovan Shore moaned.

"Practice." I said, matter-of-factly.

"Man, you should give Beatrice lessons, she really needs to-"

"Needs to what?" A nasally, high-pitched voice asked.

"Oh my god, Beatrice! It's not what it looks like!" Donovan yelped.

"Actually, it's exactly what it looks like." I purred, licking Donovan's ear.

"You jerk! How can you cheat on me?! Especially with _that," _She gestured to me in disgust. "I thought you were different!"

I smirked. That's where she's wrong. All guys were the same.

Tears welled in her eyes. "I thought you loved me!" She ran away, crying.

"Beatrice wait! Come back! She meant nothing! Honest!" He called as he ran after her.

I pulled a pencil from my pocket and flipped open my notebook. With a smirk, I drew a horizontal line through Donovan+Beatrice, and then snapped it shut in satisfaction. Everybody had a hobby. Some people liked reading or painting, but I liked to mess with people and ruin couples. Was it because I was lonely and insecure? Or maybe because I had my heart broken causing me to be bitter about love?

Nah, I did it because it was _fun._

I walked home and passed at least three beggars being dragged to jail. The Peacekeepers had also started to remove dead bodies from the streets since the camera crews were arriving for the Reaping. It wouldn't do for the Capitol to see how wretched District 11 was. In Panem's poorest district, this shit gets real. Eleven year old girls giving blow jobs for scraps of bread, what do you call that? Head over heels? I chuckled at my own joke as I opened the door.

"Hey everybody, I'm home!"

"Hey Andreea," my younger sister Dom called, holding baby Tuscan with one arm and stirring the pot of tessara gruel with the other. "Can you get the younger kids dressed for the Reaping?"

I rolled my eyes. "What's the point? They aren't even Reaping age." Adam was ten, Sandy was nine, Lizzie was five, and Tuscan was two.

Dom pursed her lips in disapproval, "Yeah, but mom's out and it's my first Reaping so I can't babysit. They're coming with us this year," She said as she set the table, simultaneously giving the floor a swipe with a rag under her foot.

"Can't Adam and Sandy look after the younger kids?"

"Yeah, let me do it!" Adam said excitedly, reaching for Tuscan. His foot caught the edge of the tablecloth and he tripped over his own feet, yanking the cloth and everything on the table to the floor. "I'm ok," He groaned.

"It'll be alright if I help," Sandy said shyly, pulling Adam to his feet. She got up, hitting her head on the cupboard door and started crying.

"They're coming with us," Dom said firmly, re-setting the table.

"Ugh fine." I rolled my eyes and pulled out our good clothes from a dusty chest. Normally we wore clothes sewn from the bags of tessara grain, but we each had one outfit that we saved for special occasions. Mine was an ugly brown dress that barely reached my knees when I was twelve. Now, it barely hits mid-thigh and I can't even button it up all the way. I held my breath and sucked in my chest to do a couple more buttons. Normally, I wouldn't give a fuck to half my boobs hanging out, but I've seen Peacekeepers beat and arrest people for looking obscene during the Reaping. There. As long as I didn't breath in too deeply I would be alright. I helped my younger siblings into their clothes and we sat down for lunch.

"I made it special, because today's a holiday," Dom announced. "I added an extra pinch of salt, and also a carrot." One carrot between five people and a baby wasn't a lot but it did give the gruel a nice color and was honestly better than how we normally ate. I downed my bowl quickly and raced to the door.

"I'll see you later, you can take the kids yourself, right Dom?" I was out the door before she had a chance to reply.

As I was walking to the square in my barely-there dress, I heard a wolf-whistle. It happened every time. With my sleek brown hair and light, nut-colored skin, my exotic good looks stood out among the sea of dark-featured girls in District 11. I guess my dad must have been a Peacekeeper or Capitol official. Who knows, my mom sure doesn't.

I turned around to see a group of teenage boys panting like dogs.

I winked at them, "Hey there boys, you want a taste?" They nodded, not taking their eyes off my boobs.

"I'll meet you guys outside the square later, if you don't get reaped." I said, walking away slowly so they could get a good look at my ass.

I signed in and walked to my pen. The girls all took a step away from me. I heard a small cough and then, "Slut" and another cough, "Ho-bag".

Of course they hate me, I fucked all their boyfriends.

I turned my attention to the mayor. He was giving the same boring speech he gave every year, and then he introduced our escort, some woman who dressed even sluttier than me. She walked over to the table with the girl's reaping bowls. That's right, we have so many people in our district and we take out so much tessara that our entries can't fit in a single bowl. It's the one good thing about living in Eleven, my name most likely isn't in the bowl she's picking from, much less the actual piece of-

"Andreea Moore!"

Oh, fuck me.

A/N I still need male tributes! Make them interesting, with an angle. 69pussydestroyer69 out.


	6. District 9 Reaping

Thanks, Cairn Destop for submitting.

Jeremiah Dipper, 17- District 9 Male

I stretched my arms behind my head, the chains around my wrists clinking against the wall as I laid down on a stack of damp hay.

"You know what Al, I think I missed this place."

"Shut up Dip, it's your fault we're in this mess in the first place," Al grumbled from his cell.

"Lighten up mate, they never keep us for long." I turned to face him and grinned. "And besides, today's the Reaping, I'll find Rosmerta while we're in the square and she'll bail us out."

He turned around gave me a look of sheer disbelief. "Bloody hell Dip, she was the Peacekeeper who arrested us! She might be your friend but she can't help you this time!"

"Why not?"

He sank his head in his knees and sighed.

* * *

><p><em>Yesterday<em>

"Step right up folks, try your luck, where the pea ends up, who knows!" I called, shuffling three shells in quick succession.

"Trying to scam another load of grain inspectors I see," Rosmerta teased.

"What? Me?" I said, feigning innocence. "Just trying to make an honest living! Gambling's legal isn't it?"

"S'pose so, as long as it's Capitolite money that's crossing hands," she said with a wink.

A Capitol liaison poked his head from the train window. "Ooh what's this? I love this game!" He said excitedly, jogging to my stand. Capitolites were always suckers, rich, stupid suckers.

_Always another mark._

"Alright mate, place your wager. And may the odds be ever in your favour," I smirked.

"I don't need odds, I can win with sheer skill! I've cleaned out grown men back in the Capitol, you better make sure you can pay out boy," He crowed confidently.

"Alright then," I said, quickly shuffling shells "let's see if you can put your money where your mouth is."

That was how the game was always played, he won some, he lost some, but as long as Al was discretely funnelling money from his pockets while I provided the distraction, we were the real winners.

"Feeling up for a bit of a smash and grab tonight, Al?" I asked casually, when we were counting our earnings at the end of the day.

He shook his head, "Not the night before the Reaping, that's just asking for trouble."

"Come on mate, that's when the stores have all the good stuff, Reaping day's the biggest shopping day of the year."

He rolled his eyes, "You're just interested in the McCullough's home brewery aren't you?"

I shrugged. "Maybe, but I've heard the Wilson's have a large order of work-boots completed, just waiting for someone to take it off their hands."

"Not worth it."

"Then I guess I'll just be doing it on my own then," I said slowly, turning away.

I was had just taken three steps when he changed his mind. "Hang on mate, Uncle Sid'll skin me alive if he knows I let you do a smash and grab by yourself."

"So you're coming then?"

He sighed. "Can't exactly refuse can I?"

"That's why you're the best partner I'll ever have," I grinned, pulling Al into a one-armed hug.

Later that night, everything was going like clockwork, the McCoullough's actually hadn't changed their locks since the last time I broke in, (though maybe they hadn't noticed a couple bottles missing) and the Wilson's hadn't even bothered to store their boots in their safe. It was almost too easy.

Until that damn mutt showed up.

"Grrrrr ruff ruff!"

"Shhh easy now, don't want to wake anyone up," I hissed, adjusting the heavy bag over my shoulder.

"Damn it Dip, let's just leave," Al whispered.

We turned around and ran but so did the dog. I made the mistake of slowing down to look over my shoulder when the bloody dog leapt and knocked me over.

_Crash_

Bloody hell, there goes the booze. Plus, the sound of the smashed bottles woke up the whole damn Merchant Quarter. Already the merchants were turning on their lights and peering out their windows to investigate. Pretty soon they'll be calling the Peacekeepers. Al dumped his bag and pulled me to my feet and we dashed down a narrow alley, climbing over a chain-link fence.

"Stop! Thief!" A male voice barked. Uh oh, it was Head Peacekeeper Glass, and he didn't play around.

We obviously kept running, that is, until a jolt of electricity hit our backs sending us sprawling.

I felt a rough pair of hands grab my arms and heard the familiar click of handcuffs around my wrists.

"You're under arrest for breaking and entering," a female voice said coldly. "You're lucky you two don't have any stolen property on you, otherwise it'll be the firing squad." I looked up. And it was Rosmerta, begging me with her eyes not to let Glass know that she knew us.

* * *

><p>"And <em>that<em> is why she can't bail us out," Al concluded, just as a Peacekeeper came down to fetch us for the Reaping.

At the square, we stood awkwardly in our pen wearing our fluorescent orange jumpsuits flanked by Peacekeepers. The cameramen turned towards us quite a few times, to my distaste. During the speeches I focused my attention on furtively picking the locks on my wrist and ankle cuffs. Eventually, the escort got up from her seat to draw the names.

"Now, since we started with the ladies last year, I think I'll do the gentlemen first," she said brightly, reaching into the bowl and palming a slip from the bottom. It probably wasn't going to be me or Al since we've both got no tessera. I'm betting it's one of those cropper kids who look like they've never had a decent-

"Jeremiah Dipper!"

Ah, maybe not. I pulled my handcuffs off and stepped out of my ankle cuffs, to the surprise of the Peacekeeper next to me. Without looking back, I walked up the stage casually, brushing past the escort. She carried on, continuing with the girl's reaping, failing to notice that her gaudy gold ring was missing. I may be dead soon, but a mark's a mark.

A/N I still need more tributes. Interesting tributes. Feel free to submit a guy for District 4 even though the Reaping's done. 69pussydestroyer69


	7. District 6 Reaping

Thanks AbbyCoraby123, for submitting.

Niahm Steavlen, 17- District 6 Female

"Niahm honey, are you awake yet?" My mom rapped lightly on the door.

I yawned, and glanced at the clock. 7:00am. School didn't start until 8:30am. "Just a few more minutes please, mom."

"Today's the Reaping and you need to get ready if you want to get going," she said.

I jolted awake. "The Reaping, its Reaping day," I gasped.

My mother's pale-green dress and white heels were neatly placed on my chair. How had I forgotten that it was today? I dressed quickly, pulled my long red hair into a braided updo, grabbed a stack of toast and raced out the door.

"Honey, you almost forgot Cinnamon," mom called, holding up a small purse with my pet bunny huddled inside.

"Oops, thanks mom!" I said, stroking Cinnamon's soft brown fur. "Can't show up to the Reaping without my lucky charm eh?" I giggled, jiggling the purse lightly. Everybody knows that a rabbit's foot is lucky, so imagine how lucky four still attached to the most adorable bunny in the world are?

I hopped on my bike, carefully securing Cinnamon in the carrier basket and set off to my best friend Anya's house.

_Ding Dong_

A pretty blonde opened the door, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. "How can you be this peppy so early in the morning?" She yawned.

"It's Reaping day Anya, aren't you excited?!" I squealed. "All the eligible boys in District 6 are gonna be there, I'm finding a boyfriend this year for sure!"

She groaned. "Niahm, the Reaping is where two people are chosen to die, not where people meet boyfriends."

"But it's the best day of the year to meet someone," I gasped. "I could meet... _the _one!"

"Why can't you just feel scared like a normal person?" She grumbled, mounting her bike.

"Oh silly," I waved it off casually "I'm not going to get reaped, someone else is. There's thousands of girls in District 6 and almost everybody ages out safely."

"It's that almost I'm worried about." She said darkly, pedaling faster.

We reached the bus stop and locked our bikes in cycloops, which were jokingly called our District flowers. District 6 was a sparsely populated, sprawling district made up of mainly roads and tracts. Me and Anya lived too far from the Square to walk, so every year we would take a different route. It was like an adventure, we would also buy lunch from a different place each year too, since Reaping day was such a special day. Anya studied the bus route carefully.

"We can take the bus to Alperton, then ride the subway to Croxley, buy lunch, then eat on the train, and finally take the shuttle bus to the square," she said.

"Sounds like a plan," I grinned, swinging my purse over my shoulder.

We boarded the bus, perching awkwardly on the broken seats. The bus smelt of rotten eggs and almost every window had a crack in it. The bus driver floored it, and the bus set off in a burst of sputtering gray fumes. We coughed and I covered Cinnamon's delicate nose with my hand.

We arrived at Alperton in record time, according to Anya. Unfortunately, the subways were prone to delays. After waiting for what felt like ages, (it was only ten minutes Niahm!) the subway finally pulled up with a loud hiss. It was extremely crowded, considering it was Reaping day. Luckily, most of the occupants were boys my age!

"I really hope no one molests me," I said loudly, winking at the cute guys. "Because it would be really easy, since it's so crowded. I might not even notice, with all the bodies pressing against me."

For some reason, all the guys suddenly inched away from us, leaving a noticeable space around me and Anya.

She slapped her palm to her face, "You have issues Niahm."

I pouted. How come guys never asked me out? It's a total mystery.

We got off at Croxley and bought sandwiches from a street vendor. I fed the lettuce to Cinnamon while we waited for the train.

Anya glanced at the clock, "It's almost noon," she remarked. The Reaping didn't start till two so we had plenty of time.

After a few minutes, we felt the ground rumbling beneath our feet and heard the familiar high-pitched whistle as the train pulled up to the station. We learned in school that the trains in the Capitol can travel at speeds up to 250 miles an hour using electromagnets. Our trains run on coal so they're much slower, you can actually enjoy the scenery out the window. I nibbled on my ham and swiss as the factories and racetracks went by.

We unboarded the train and took the shuttle bus to the square. It was only one, but there were already long lineups for the boys and girls. We got in line to sign in and I started scoping out the cute guys.

"Psst, Anya, hottie at four o'clock."

She rolled her eyes, "Do you have to do this every year? The guys have enough to worry about without you perving on them."

We eventually signed in and headed to our section.

"Oh my god, I think I'm in love," I swooned, as a tall, buff brunette walked past us.

"Just give it up Niahm, no one has ever found someone at the Reaping," Anya sighed.

"That's not true! Haven't I read it in a romance novel before! The Capitol's doing us a big favour, gathering us all in one place like this. It's cause they're on the side of loooooove." I squealed, clutching Cinnamon to my chest.

She stared at me for a long time, looked as if she wanted to say something, and then shook her head and turned back to the stage.

At two, the mayor walked up to the stage and began his speech. I zoned out, of course. The next thing I know, the escort was walking up to the girl's bowl. She pulled out a slip from the center and walked back to the microphone. I hugged Cinnamon tightly.

"Niahm Steavlen."

I felt my grip around Cinnamon loosen, and he fell to the ground with a plop. I turned to Anya, who gave me an apologetic look.

Oh no. This can't be happening! Out of all people, why me?! I'm going to die.

And I never got a chance to find the one.

AN I still need tributes. Also, character profiles may be changed at my discretion. Seriously, a lot of the tributes I got were boring as hell. 69pussydestroyer69 out.


	8. District 8 Reaping

Thank you, Josephm611 for submitting.

Derek Walker, 17- District 8 Male

"Give it back, that's mine!"

I opened one eye lazily.

"Nuh uh, it doesn't have your name on it, finders keepers, losers weepers! Pffft!" As usual, there was always some fight going on in the community home.

I cracked my knuckles and swung myself out of bed, "The hell's goin' on?"

"He tried to steal my ma's locket," One of the boys pointed at the other accusingly. "Beat him up, Duke!"

The other boy held up his hands in mock surrender, "Sorry dude, didn't know you were such a mama's boy."

"I am not!"

I rolled my eyes and flopped back in bed, but I couldn't fall asleep again, the one day I got to sleep in too. Usually I worked the morning shift in the textile factory before school, we all did in the community home. We had to eat somehow. I dressed in a white shirt, brown pants and a dark brown belt and walked to the dining hall. Today we actually got an egg with our toast since it was a special occasion. I ate quickly and tried to walk out the door.

"Aw hell naw, Derek," It was our house-mother, "you tryin' to sneak out?"

"Just goin' for a walk, aint no rule against that."

"Well you better get yo ass to the Reaping on time, if you late it's my ass on the line," she said, shaking a long, manicured finger at me.

"Whatever," I mumbled, brushing past her.

Hands in my pockets, I strolled around the streets aimlessly. Seeing some empty cans on the ground, I picked them up and threw them in the trash can a couple of meters away. How lazy can you get? Some people, man.

I continued walking until I was past my neighbourhood, well into another gang's territory. I noticed a group of idiots my age, joking loudly about how they plan to win if they were reaped for the games. The tallest one finished his soda, crushed the can and tossed it carelessly over his shoulder. I picked it up and threw it back at him, hitting him on the back of his head.

"The fuck's your problem, man?" He snarled, turning around. Seeing who he was talking to, his expression suddenly changed, "Yo, you're Duke Derek right? The supposedly number one street fighter around?"

"Yeah? The hell are you?"

"They call me Konan, the King," he smirked "and I outrank you."

"For real? Or in your dreams?"

"For real." He snapped his fingers and his thugs gathered in a circle around us.

"I'm gonna strip you of your title right here, right now-"

I punched him across the face before he could finish. First rule of street fighting, anything goes. No such thing as fair and unfair, first man down loses.

He tried to kick me in the groin but I blocked with by foot before he could connect. I quickly hooked him by the knee with my leg, pulled him in, and connected my fist to his face using the momentum. In less than a minute, the 'King' was down.

"Konan!" His girlfriend shrieked. "You'll pay for this Duke," she snarled, "Get him, you guys!"

What was this, six against one? What a fucking bother. I knocked out the nearest thug and grabbed his two-by-four. I ducked and avoided a heavy blow to the head, but received a blow to the stomach. Five against one, but like my mama always said, life's not fair, and it will never be fair. With a cry of rage, I swung in a wild arc, taking out two more. After that, it was easy to trash the remaining three. I turned to Konan's girlfriend.

"Y-you wouldn't hit a girl would you?" She said hesitantly, not nearly so haughty with her bodyguards on the ground.

"What did last year's victor say to the girl who asked him that?"

She looked puzzled, he never said anything.

I punched her so hard she fell over, unconscious.

That's right, he never replied. He just killed her.

I checked the giant digital clock above the factory a block away, almost time for the Reaping. I looked at the eight unconscious bodies on the ground and sighed. They weren't waking up any time soon, and if they didn't show up without a legitimate excuse for the officials, they'll be imprisoned. I shrugged and walked to the square.

At two, the Mayor walked up to the mike and began his speech, introducing our escort. Whatever, it was the same chick every year. She started the video of our District being built up from the ashes. It made no effort to hid the ocean of grey smog and asphalt. I'm not surprised we hardly ever won, the arenas were always a forest or jungle and most of us in District 8 have never even seen a blade of grass outside of television.

Before I knew it, the escort was selecting a slip from the girl's bowl. She frowned at the bowl for a few seconds, and picked a slip that was sticking to the side. She called out the name and as usual, the girl started crying before she was even up the stairs.

Unperturbed, the escort shuffled over to the boy's bowl, concentrated on it like it held the winning numbers of the lottery, and grabbed a slip from the centre.

"Konan Jackson!" Nobody moved. The Peacekeepers began checking their electronic files.

Aw hell, no.

The head Peacekeeper cleared his throat, "I'm sorry ma'am but he never signed in, we tagged him as a no-show."

"Err, well alright then," she said, shifting her teeth into a phony smile "here I go again!"

She dipped her hand in the bowl and grabbed the first slip she touched.

"Derek Walker!"

Aw hell, no.

Hey mama, I know you're up there and I love you, but I just wanna say, you're wrong. Sometimes life can be fair. Very, fucking fair.

A/N I still need more tributes: Spots open are basically any district that I haven't written about yet. Also, I decided I'm only doing one Reaping POV for each district, their partner will die in the bloodbath. (Careers might be an exception) Once again, a reminder not to get butt-hurt when I change stuff about your tribute to make them awesome. -69pussydestroyer69


	9. District 2 Reaping

Thank you, the scout12 for submitting. Thanks Gaston is my bae, for submitting Gaston. You put me to shame.

Claire Mckenzie, 18- District 2 Female

_Dear Mr. and Mrs. Warbucks,_

_How are you? We received your homemade fudge in the mail, it was really yummy! Lucy said that it was even better than the toffee you sent last month (and that's saying something)._

_We had a big laugh at your vacation photos, especially the one where it looked like Mr. Warbucks was about to be eaten by that lion mutt. Don't worry, your face-lifts look completely natural! _

_We're both doing well in school, I'm graduating this year and guess what? I was chosen to receive the honour of volunteering to represent our district in this year's Hunger Games! It doesn't mean I'm guaranteed to go in, but as long as nobody contests you'll be seeing yours truly on the big screens next week. _

_I'm enclosing a picture of the two of us in front of Big Rock, Lucy's standing closer so it looks like I'm holding her in my hand while she's leaning against the mountain. She's starting to hit her growth spurt and I'm hoping she won't get taller than me one day, haha. _

_With love,_

_Claire Mckenzie_

I folded the letter in the envelope and sealed it. Monthly letters were a requirement of the Panem Vision program, where philanthropic Capitolites sponsored orphaned children in the Districts. My mother died mysteriously when I was six and Lucy was only a baby, so we were eligible for the program and the Warbucks' donations paid for our scholarships at the Academy.

I pushed the letter into the mailbox and jogged to the gym, where my best friend Jason was waiting for me.

"Girl, those shoes, like, totally don't go with that shirt," he z-snapped sassily "polka dots and stripes, like, what were you thinking?"

"Chill man, we can't all be crazy fashionistas like you," I replied. Jason was sporting a black crop top with low-rise jeans and clunky combat boots. If he wasn't totally gay the girls would be all over his rock-hard abs and perfectly plucked brows.

"Now come on, I wanna get some practice in before the Reaping."

We picked up a couple of swords and sparred for a while.

"So, did you see the guy who's volunteering?" He grunted as I brought my sword down onto his.

"Adam right? Yeah, I watched him a few times at training," I ducked as he slashed at my head "that guy's a _beast."_

"And oh so yummy," he sighed "I don't know who I'm going to cheer for this year."

I gave his sword a vicious whack, causing it to sail over his head.

"You're gonna be cheering for me, cause you know I'm winning this thing," I smirked at the astonished expression on his face.

"Alright, that's enough practice, you're ready girl," he grinned.

I changed into a Jason-approved blue dress with a white collar and we headed to the square. We split up to sign in at our respective lines which were moving at a snail's pace. I fiddled with my token, a gold Celtic ring the Warbucks got me for my birthday.

"Ah, Belle! There you are," an obnoxious voice boomed. I turned around to see a muscular guy clad in red with his long black hair tied back in a ponytail running up to me. He stopped and frowned when he got close enough to see my face.

"Wait," he frowned "you're not my beautiful Belle. Where is she? Oh Belleee!" He called as he jogged away.

In front of me, a brunette got up from her crouched position in the center of her group of friends. I guess she was Belle, and that idiot mistook me for her because we were wearing the same dress. I eventually signed in and headed to my section.

At two the mayor got up from his seat to begin the ceremony. For some reason I started feeling nervous about this whole thing, what if I wasn't good enough? What if I didn't deserve to volunteer? I almost didn't notice the escort pull a slip from the girl's bowl until I heard her name,

"Lucy Mckenzie!"

Wow, my sister, she had what, one slip? What were the chances of that?

We waited for her to walk up to the stage before the escort asked for volunteers.

"I volunteer as tribute," I called. I glared at the girls around me, daring them to contest. Nobody said a word, so I jogged up to the stage triumphantly.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" The escort asked cheerfully.

"Claire McKenzie."

"Let's have a big round of applause for our courageous young woman, Claire McKenzie!" She cheered.

The entire square went wild with applause. This was the moment I was dreaming of my whole life, that I would be somebody that mattered. No longer just a face in the crowd, everybody would hear my name when I shout it loud.

I was so caught up in the exhilaration that I didn't even notice the escort pulling out a boy's name until I heard Adam volunteer.

Before he could mount the stage, a familiar voice shouted, "I contest!" It was the same idiot from before. As was protocol, he and Adam jumped on the stage to fight for the tribute spot. Seeing him from behind, I noticed something strange about his body.

"Oh my god, Becky, look at that guy's butt," one of the girls in front whispered to her friend.

That guy's ass was huge, what the hell was he packing in there?! I could see that Adam was thinking the same thing, because he so busy staring at his asshole that he didn't notice the asshole's punch. We all cringed as Adam went down.

"Oooh, that's gotta hurt," I muttered.

But Adam wasn't chosen to volunteer for nothing, he got up and went right back in it, pummelling the crimson idiot to oblivion. It looked like Adam was about to win, but Mr. Big-ass pulled his feet from under him, and literally sat on him.

-poot-

Suddenly, a noxious green fog escaped from his enormous backside. The odour hit me right in the face, and I practically lost my lunch right there. In fact, the entire square looked sick, a few girls in the front even fainted. And Adam... I'm not even sure he's alive.

The paramedics came to haul Adam away, and the triumphant farting hero ripped the mike from the stunned mayor's hand.

"I, Gaston LeGume will be your next victor," He roared "And Belle will be mine!" He turned to Adam, being lifted onto a stretcher, "Anyone who gets in the way of my love will suffer the same fate," he lifted his right buttock and farted again. "Nobody competes in the Hunger Games like Gaston!" He struck a body-builder pose.

I exchanged a panicked look with the mayor, as tributes, we were supposed to bring honour to our district, not make us the laughingstock of Panem. I turned to Gaston, who was now farting our national anthem and realized with horror that he was my district partner.

As Jason would say, shit happens.

A/N OK no one's submitting tributes, and the ones I got were boring as hell. I'm just stopping the Reapings here and moving on to the pre-games stuff. 69pussydestroyer69 out.


	10. Train Rides

Thank you, we believe in fan fiction for submitting Zeon Thatcher. He wasn't as out-there as Gaston, but pretty close.

Jessamine Grey, 17- District 4 Female

The train doors shut behind us and I finally got a chance to size up my district partner. I wasn't planning on joining Districts 1 and 2 this year, but I would ally with Zeon if he wasn't planning on joining the pack either.

I turned to him and stuck out my hand awkwardly to shake. "Um, hi I'm Jessamine, but you can call me Jess. We know each other's name from the Reaping but I just wanted to start over and-"

Suddenly, he grabbed my face and kissed me full on the lips. It took me a few seconds to get over the shock, but once I regained my senses I slapped him across the face.

"Ow, feisty there," he chuckled, cradling his cheek.

"What was that about? We just met!"

"I know honey, but you were just so cute I couldn't resist," he said with a wink.

I glared at him. Honestly, with his highlights, skinny jeans and piercings I thought Zeon played for the other team, but I guess I was wrong.

We walked into the main compartment and sat down with our mentors at the dining table, which was completely covered in dishes that I haven't seen outside of our victory parties. I helped myself to a strawberry mousse dessert that I had enjoyed when Finnick won and Zeon did the same.

Mags garbled something indistinguishable and Finnick had to translate.

"She said to tell us about yourselves," he said helpfully.

"Well, I'll go first," Zeon said with a flip of his hair "My name's Zeon Thatcher and I've mastered swords, axes, bows, spears, throwing knives, swimming, climbing, and running. I've watched every single Hunger Games to date and studied the strategies of all the victors. My hobbies include training, flirting, orgies, and making out with random strangers. I volunteered to win the prize money to give my boyfriends and girlfriends the life they deserve."

We sat in stunned silence, wondering if he was for real.

"Well, I-um," I cleared my throat. "I'm Jess and I'm alright with most weapons that were taught in school, I swim a lot as well, but don't we all? I've watched every episode of Painting with Petape," Petape smiled at this part "I love to paint, and my dream is to be a famous artist. Also... I'm not joining the Careers."

Mags and Finnick exchanged uncomfortable glances at the last part.

"Alright, do you two want to be trained separately, or together?" Finnick asked.

"Separately," I said quickly.

"Alright then, me and Mags will work with Zeon on strategy first, Petape will work on presentation with Jess and we'll switch over in an hour, is that alright?"

We agreed and he, Mags and Zeon headed to a separate compartment.

Alone with Petape, I shyly pulled my sketchbook from my bag.

"Miss Pastel, can I have your autograph?"

"Of course, and you can call me Petape, sweetheart," she said flipping through the pages. I braced myself for the imminent scolding.

"They aren't any good are they? You always said that an artist was as good as her tools, but I could never afford brand names," I said accusingly.

She sighed, "I'm sorry sweetheart, I always hated that line, but I had to say it because my boss made me. The truth is, when I was your age I couldn't afford the brand names either."

I looked up sharply, I thought all Capitolites were rich.

"My father, a minimum-wage earner would always say to me, 'talent doesn't come from how much your brushes cost, talent comes from the heart.' When the self-doubt got too much and I kept thinking I wasn't good enough, I would think of those words. Having someone believe in me gave me the courage to apply for the only fine arts scholarship offered at the university and succeed. I wish I could tell all the aspiring artists the same thing." She signed her name with a flourish and handed my sketchbook back to me.

_Talent comes from the heart, and you have a lot of it. I believe in you. -Petape Pastel _

I blinked back tears. "My friend Alec, he said something similar, that a true master can make art with any brush."

"Alec Rodriguez from two years ago?"

"You remember?" I asked in surprise.

"Of course I remember, I remember every tribute," her mouth turned down at the corners "and I only wish I could have done more for them." She said quietly, looking actually sorry.

Jeremiah Dipper, 17-District 9 Male

Well my partner and mentors are downright depressing. I chewed my garlic cheesy bun slowly, savouring the spicy aroma. At least the food was good, honestly there was more food here than me and Uncle Sid can eat for a month on this table. I even spied some high-end rum next to the desserts. I grabbed a bottle and dropped it into the shirt of my jumpsuit, might as well help myself for later. I wondered what happened to the leftovers that we didn't eat. Would they throw it away? What a bloody waste.

I snuck a few buns up my sleeves and announced that I was going to bed. I walked into the ensuite bathroom in my bedroom and pushed buttons until a spray of warm water gushed from the ceiling. I nearly gagged from the smell, guess I'll be smelling like lilacs for the next week. I wrapped a towel around my waist and stepped out the door.

"Hey Dip, did I catch you at a bad time?"

"Bloody hell Rosmerta, what are you doing here?" I yelped, nearly dropping my towel.

"You aren't the only one who can pick locks, you know."

"No, I mean what are you doing _here." _I gestured to the train carting me to my imminent death.

"After I saw that you were reaped I traded shifts with the Peacekeeper who was assigned to monitor you."

"Thanks for the support love," I smiled weakly "but I don't think you're able to bail me out this time."

She collapsed onto my bed with frustration. "No I can't, and this really sucks."

I chose a pair of pyjamas from the closet and pulled them on. "Hey, love? Can I ask you something?"

"Go ahead."

"Why do you hate the Capitol?"

She stiffened. Back in District 9 she always avoided the question, but now that I was about to die, it was my last chance to know.

"Have you ever been to District 2?" She asked slowly "No wait, that's a stupid question. But in District 2, all the teachers are from the Capitol. They tell you how you should think, how you should feel, they fill your head with their own thoughts until you forget how to speak and ask all the questions."

"But you were immune to their brainwashing, love?"

She shook her head. "Nope, I drank the kool-aid and dreamed of the honour of getting to compete in the Hunger Games. When my brother was chosen to represent our district, I was prouder than anything that I got to say I was related to a tribute."

...

I never knew Rosmerta had a brother.

"He didn't win. Enobaria did. And when she came back, everybody forgot that a little girl's brother had to die for her to do it. That was when I realized that even when we win, we don't win. I started asking questions that our teachers didn't have answers to, and when I saw their faces I knew... I knew that something was wrong."

"Enobaria's district partner, his name was Dipponysus," I said slowly, "but everybody called him-"

"-Dip. And when I heard your name, you reminded me of everything that was wrong with the system," she continued.

"Which is why you lied to the justice clerk and said that I hadn't stolen anything when we first met, and then bailed me out every time I got in trouble." This revelation hit me like a ton of bricks.

"But I can't help you now," she said sadly.

"You can! You might not be able to get me out from the games, but you can help me win. You trained to be a Career, tell me everything you learned about the games and I might have a decent chance," I grabbed her hand and pulled looked deep in her eyes.

I knew I had a chance, I really did. Living in the back room of a gym I had unlimited access to the equipment, which I took full advantage of. I might not be a looker, but I was agile and in-shape. The only thing I lacked was weaponry knowledge and strategy, which I could probably pick up in a few days with Rosmerta's help.

She nodded grimly. "We only have three days, so you can't expect to match the Careers. But do exactly as I tell you, and you might survive."

Lustre Cardonell, 18- District 1 Male

"This is actually pretty good," Cashmere said with a mouthful of tiramisu "where did you get this again?_ Le Chatte Demoulisseur_?"

"Yeah, its some French place, I don't know what it means in English though."

It felt strange, eating on the train with Cashmere and Gloss when we were usually back at my place by now.

"Your trainers taught you everything you need to know?" Gloss asked.

We nodded. We spent our whole lives training for this, we knew what we were going to do.

"Alright, let's get a look at your competition then," he said, turning on the television.

The live Reaping were completed so they were showing the recaps in reverse order.

First were District 12, who looked like bloodbaths, as usual.

Next was District 11, the girl's shirt burst open when the escort called her name, fortunately for her, a black censor bar covered up her wardrobe malfunction.

District 10 was nothing special.

The guy from District 9 apparently just got out of jail. Better watch out for him in case he turns out to be dangerous.

"Cripes, that guy is huge," Tia exclaimed when District 8 went on "since when did the garment district have such capable tributes?"

I marked him down as a potential threat.

District 7 was nothing in comparison

I actually laughed at the girl from District 6, when the escort called her name she dropped her pet and began sobbing about how she never getting a boyfriend now.

District 5 was just pathetic.

Me and Tia leaned forward when District 4 came on, we usually allied with them for the games. A really gay-looking guy volunteered but the girl was reaped.

District 3 as always looked wimpy and frail next to the Careers.

In District 2, a macho chick volunteered for her sister, and then an even more macho blonde guy volunteered- oh no wait, he was being contested. We watched in horror as the guy in red _farted_ on the blonde, and then announced that he was going into the games.

"This-this, simply won't do!" Tia sputtered.

I turned to our mentors, "Do we actually have to team up with that ass?"

Gloss frowned, "Well, he's from District 2, he contested the volunteer, and he won. There's no reason to exclude him from the Career pack."

I turned to Tia and raised my eyebrow almost imperceptibly. She gave me a small nod. We agreed, judge his value to us at training and decide what we were going to do with him later.

A/N Submissions are now closed. We are not moving into the pre-game events. Vote for which tribute you want to win in the poll on my profile.

-69pussydestroyer69 out.


	11. Preparation and Chariot Rides

Julia Hill, 15- District 12 Female

_R-i-i-ip! _My eyes watered as Venia, a woman with white hair and a lion tattoo ripped a strip of fabric from my leg.

"Sorry dear, you're just so hairy!"

I groaned. I must have been here for nearly three hours, being plucked, scrubbed and exfoliated by a trio of beauticians. After they have deemed me acceptable, I am finally ready to meet the man who will make or break my first impression with the Capitol.

"Let's call Caius!" Octavia, a plump pink-skinned woman squealed.

They scurried out of the room and I pulled on a white bathrobe, feeling self-conscious about my bare body.

A tall, sallow-skinned man with hair as white as the walls walked in. I recognized him as the District 12 stylist we got every year. He was as old as the games itself, but had underwent so many cosmetic procedures to look young that it was impossible to guess his age by just looking at him.

"No, no, no, what are you doing?" He whipped the robe off my body.

"As an artiste I must be able to gaze upon the canvass that will adorn my masterpiece."

For as long as I can remember, our tributes were dressed in the same skimpy coal miner costumes complete with helmets and pickaxes. They never did hold much favour with the Capitol crowd, if only this year we had something different, then maybe I can make an impression.

For the longest time, Caius stared at my naked body like a piece of meat on a platter.

"Yes yes... You'll do nicely," he muttered "pull on your robe so we can discuss your look," he said, straightening up.

He pushed a button and a hot meal rose up from the table. Beef and vegetables cooked in a savoury sauce, fluffy rolls on the side with a cake the color of honey for dessert. I reached for a roll and Caius slapped my hand away.

"Stupid girl! You can't ruin your figure before your big debut," he snapped, tucking into the food himself.

I was stunned. My father had never, ever eaten in front of me without making sure I was eating as well. In fact, he would often give up his share to make sure I would have enough. I couldn't imagine anyone being this rude, especially a Capitolite.

For the next hour Caius gave me a monologue of his glory days as the District 1 stylist, and then the District 2 stylist, and apparently he kept on moving up the districts as he got older and less famous. I couldn't get a word in edgewise.

"Anyway, if you have a token hand it over now so I can pass it onto the review board," he finally said, with a mouthful of cake.

I walked over to where my clothes were laying in a heap and pulled my leather bracelet out of a pocket.

"This piece of trash is your district token?" He sneered "here, let me throw it away for you," he dropped it into the trashcan and I dove for it, snatching it back before it could fall into the abyss.

"No! It has... sentimental value to me." Matt gave it to me for my birthday when he was five. He would work on it when he thought I wasn't looking, and even it's cheap and worn, I still picture my brother painstakingly knotting it for days just to see me smile.

"Hmmph. Fine, I'll pass it onto the review board, but if you want my opinion natural fibre was so last season. Anyway, onto your first costume," he continued.

"I personally think the coal miner thing is so overdone,"

I looked up hopefully.

"So this year, you and your partner will be adorned with nothing but coal dust!" He pulled a jar of coal dust from a drawer. "Ta-da!"

"Um, we're wearing flesh-toned bodysuits underneath the coal dust aren't we? Otherwise I imagine it'll be a bit... obscene?"

He shook his head gleefully. "No, you two will be one hundred percent naked out there tonight! Nudity is the latest word in fashion this season you know," he whispered conspiratorially.

* * *

><p>Oh good god why did I wish for a different costume this year?<p>

Me and my partner were completely naked, save a few patches of coal dust, which did absolutely nothing to cover up. We're loaded onto the chariots by our prep teams, and our stylists carefully arranged our body positions.

"No, no, no! Hands away from your body, you want to exude confidence and raw sexuality," Caius snapped.

My cheeks burned with shame. The chariot rides were mandatory viewing for the entire country. Everybody in the world will see me naked. Oh god, what will Matt and my father think?

Suddenly, the opening music begins and massive doors slide open revealing the crowd-lined streets. The ride lasts for twenty minutes around City Circle, finishing at the Training Center where we will stay until the games begin.

The tributes from District 1 ride out in a chariot pulled by snow white horses. They're dressed up as a king and queen, complete with majestic mantles and jeweled crowns. I can't help but admire how beautiful the two blondes are.

District 2 gets into position to follow them, the tributes are dressed as white knights in shining armor.

One by one the chariots exit and trot slowly down the street.

In no time at all, we are approaching the door. District 11 rolls by, the tributes dressed up as servants carrying large dishes of food.

Finally, it's our turn. Despite Caius' instructions I cover myself the best I could with my hands. The crowd's initial response is laughter, and I can hear a couple of wolf-whistles. Next to me, my partner looks absolutely mortified. I catch ourselves on the television screen and we look as humiliated as we feel.

I desperately try to think of something positive. Well, this year we definitely did make a splash, and we'll likely be on everyone's minds. Maybe they'll remember us when the games begin and our humiliation will pay off in sponsor gifts.


	12. First Night

Derek Walker, 17- District 8 Male

Apparently the Training Center has a tower that will house us until the actual games begin. After the parade, our escort hustled us into a taxi to ride for a whopping five minutes to the tower. Seriously, we could have walked but I guess they're scared that we might try to make a run for it. Once in the tower, the forcefields and Peacekeepers eliminate any chance of escape. We crammed ourselves in the elevator and our escort pressed the 8 button.

"My hair!" She cried in dismay when the tassel of my tapestry costume knocked her pouffy blue wig off-kilter.

"Sorry," I muttered.

The elevator zoomed upwards and in less than a second, stopped with a ding.

"Voila, your home away from home!"

I surveyed the place with disgust. This apartment must be bigger than most houses in District 8 and the gaudy silken decor alone probably costs more than what an average family makes a year.

Our escort clapped her hands with glee. "Are you hungry darlings? I'm absolutely _famished._"

From what? All she did was walk us from the train to the taxi, then from the chariot to another taxi. Some people, man.

"Go change and wash up, dinner will be ready in just a minute." She disappeared out the door and I walked into the bedroom labeled District 8 male.

I had actually been able to wear my own clothes under my costume, which was a gold and red silk tapestry of a lion with holes for my head and arms. All I had to do was rip the top layer off and I was good to go.

I sat down at the dining table with my partner and our mentors and immediately we were served by avoxes in white tunics. Apparently our escort had gone ahead and ordered our favourite dishes for us because they set down our food without instruction. I picked at my rosemary chicken steak with a side of buttered peas sullenly as my partner wolfed down her own dish.

"Derek? Is there something wrong with your meal?" Cecelia asked softly.

I shook my head. "Naw, the food's great, I'm just tired."

"Why don't you go to bed, you have a big day tomorrow." Cecelia placed a hand gently on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile. She's a nice lady, the kind of mother everybody wishes they had, hell, as much as I love my mama she's the kind of mother I wish I had.

"Yeah, I think I'll do that," I muttered.

I walked into my bedroom where an avox was waiting. I took off my clothes while the room was still dark and handed them to him to launder.

"Listen man, these clothes are really important to me, they're the only clothes here I feel comfortable wearing so if you can get them back by tomorrow morning before I leave for training I would-"

He punched me across the face before I could finish. I spat out a mouthful of blood and turned to glare at him.

"The hell did I ever do to you?"

He flicked on the lights and I finally got a good look at his face. To my surprise, it was a face I recognized.

"Konan?"

He nodded.

I sat down on the bed, my head reeling.

"What the hell happened man? Is this because you missed the Reaping? What happened to all your friends?"

He pulled a notebook and pen from his shirt and scribbled a response.

_They're in jail right now and I would be there with them, but I was reaped and evasion is considered high-treason. This is all your fault too, if you hadn't shown up we would have been fine._

I punched him back, hard.

"Idiot, if you had been in the square you would be the one dying in the arena in a few days." Suddenly, I realized how serious my situation was. I had been denying it and blocking it from my mind since the Reaping but the truth is that in a few days, I would be dead. The room started to spin I began to hyperventilate.

Konan shook his head and scribbled another response.

_No blockhead, I was serious, if I was reaped I would win. Before meeting you I was the undefeated champion of the streets. The Careers don't have shit on me. One person wins every year, why wouldn't it be me?_

He had a point. One person did win every year, Cecelia did, Woof did. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If they could do it, why couldn't I? I closed my eyes until the room stopped spinning. I don't have to die. All I have to do is make sure I outlive everybody else. Unlike most of the other tributes, I was the number one street fighter back home, I had a real chance.

Konan wrote me another message.

_Listen, I heard that victors get everything they want, including their own avoxes to bring back home to work for them. You gotta win and take me home. It's my only chance, I need to be around for my family. Right now, nobody 's there to help out my mom with the rent, nobody's there to be the father I never had for my brother, nobody's there to defend my crew and our streets. I was called the King for a reason, I looked after the people I cared about and they depend on me. I heard that Duke Derek's not a bad guy at heart, so will you do this?_

...

What's it like to have people you care about? I wouldn't know, my father walked out before I was born and my mother died in a factory explosion when I was eight. I was in the community home ever since, where I quickly learned that nobody gave a shit about you. Maybe it was because I had nobody I cared about that I was so good at street fighting. Unlike the King, or Bloody Baron, or Lady Freja who took it on themselves to protect their turf, I had none. I always fought like I had nothing to lose, and I never thought that would change. But if I lost here, it would be the end for me, this is the one fight I can't lose.

"I'll do it."


	13. Training Day 1

Andreea Moore, 15- District 11 Female

I am absolutely fucked.

In less than a week I am going to be dumped in an insane deathtrap. I can't die, I'm Andreea fucking Moore! I can't die, I can't die, I can't die.

I kicked over a chair in my room in frustration.

_What the fuck am I supposed to do?_

I caught a glance of myself in the vanity mirror, sweaty and dishevelled.

_That's not me._

I sat down and grabbed a hairbrush and started brushing my hair in long, smooth strokes. When my blotchy face returned to it's usual blush and my hair fell down my back in a familiar glossy sheet, my breathing and heart rate slowly normalized. _Just think it through Andreea, what do you do when you have a problem?_

I opened the closet and chose the sluttiest outfit I could find, a tube top that was narrower than most belts and a micro-miniskirt that didn't even cover my panties. Ever since my boobs came in, I've never encountered a problem that couldn't be solved by acting like a whore.

"Andreea, sweetie" Seeder cleared her throat "don't you think those clothes are a little... inappropriate for training?" She asked cautiously at breakfast.

"Naw, it's just part of my strategy," I replied, helping myself to some eggs.

She pursed her lips. "I think I know what 'strategy' you're talking about but I still think you won't be able to get through mandatory exercises without another wardrobe malfunction."

When I heard my name at the Reaping I forgot I was supposed to be be breathing shallowly and my shirt burst open. It's a real stoke of luck really, because I'm trying to earn the reputation of being this year's sexiest tribute. After all, the Gamemakers always make sure the popular tributes do well.

"Whatever," I flipped her off "I do what I want."

"Why do you even bother, Seeder?" Chaff slurred, already drunk "It doesn't matter you say, the tributes never listen."

I wobbled my way to the elevator and it opened up to the tributes from District 12. I stumbled inside and glared at the girl from Twelve. That lucky thing got to be naked during the parade while I was covered up from neck to foot. I marked her as a potential rival.

We arrived at the basement and stepped into the enormous gymnasium filled with various weapons and obstacle courses. Apparently we're the last ones to arrive as the other tributes are gathered in a tense circle. As soon as we joined the circle, the head trainer stepped forward and began to explain the training schedule.

I took this opportunity to do a quick assessment. Except for the Careers, all the guys this year look absolutely- wait who was that? I eyed the muscular boy from Eight as he yawned and stretched his hands behind his head. It wasn't that he was particularly good looking, but he was tall and well-built and I could even see a few battle scars. He was definitely my best chance.

When the head trainer was done speaking we dispersed and I followed the boy from Eight to the sword station. What was his name again? Dirk? Duke? Whatever, he would let me call him whatever the fuck I want after I was done with him.

I watched as he took a few shaky tries with a sword. He's not _too_ good, which is good for me. I sashayed up to him, nearly falling over twice, (damn these heels!) and tugged on his collar to get his attention.

"Hey there hot stuff, that's a big sword you got there. And I'm not talking about the one in your hands." I let my gaze fall lower so he could see what I was talking about.

"Thanks," he grunted "now can you get out of the way?"

What the fuck? Maybe he didn't see me?

I swivelled around to face him, grabbing his collar so our lips were level.

"You know, seeing you swing that sword around is making me feel rather..._excited. _How about we go somewhere more private and do some training of our own?"

He pushed me away and picked up another sword, "Thanks, but no thanks. I ain't interested," he said, beckoning an assistant to spar with him.

This can not be happening. I'm Andreea Moore, the girl every guy fantasizes about!

"I don't think you understand," I snarled, grabbing his shoulder "nobody rejects Andreea Moore."

He turned to me one last time in annoyance.

"Well I just did."

Claire McKenzie, 18- District 2 Female

Oh sweet Jesus thank the lord that the District 1 tributes are actually _normal. _After enduring a painful train ride, parade, and dinner with the loud, obnoxious, farting, and apparently constipated Gaston I was ready to end it all and slit my throat.

"Hey McKenzie, we should ask the tributes from Four to join us, yeah?" Lustre asked, without farting, striking a pose, or asking me to hold his laxatives.

I nodded, dazed. Oh the things I took for granted.

We approached the pair from Four and introduced ourselves.

"Join us! On our quest for glory and victory!" Gaston boomed. Then he farted.

"Your partner... He's kind of... Ummm..." Tia whispered to me.

"Incredibly messed up? Yeah, but my mentors told me to keep him around," I whispered back. District loyalty is huge in Two, unfortunately. We turned back to Zeon and Jess.

"Thanks for the offer, but I would prefer to work alone." Jess said quietly before walking away. Lucky her, I wish I could walk out that easily.

We turned to Zeon, who suddenly grabbed me by the face and kissed me full on the lips. What the hell?! I punched him across the face and he went flying.

"Ow, you really pack a punch," he chuckled, rubbing his swollen cheek.

"The hell was that about?" I demanded.

He grinned and stuck out his pinky. "In District 4, I'm what's called a 'switch-hitter' and luckily for me, you're both flavours."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means he's a butt-pirate who also does girls, and he thinks you look like a man," Gaston explained helpfully. Then he farted.

"Holy shit, a guy with an ass like that shouldn't be making butt jokes," Lustre whispered to Tia.

I sighed. "OK, are you in the pack or what Zeon?"

"Oh I'm in it, like how I was in-"

"OK, OK, we get the picture," I yelped "let's just intimidate the other tributes and meet up for lunch OK?"

We split up according to our specialities and I headed to the throwing knives station. There was a short line-up so I shoved the other tributes aside and pushed my way to the front. I grabbed three knives between my knuckles and threw all three knives behind my back. I twirled around to see each of them hit the bulls-eye. Turning back smugly to see the expression on everyone's face, I saw a blur and then a knife disappear.

"Hey! Where's my knife? It was right here! Give me back my knife!" I snarled, grabbing the boy from Nine who was standing right there.

"Don't have it, love. Honest." He held up his empty hands apologetically.

In an instant, a Peacekeeper appeared. "Is there a problem here?" He asked, hands on his taser.

"Yeah! He stole my knife, there was a three-set right here and there's only two on the table, see?"

The Peacekeeper frowned. "Removing weapons from the gymnasium is punishable by ban." He turned to the boy from Nine. "What's your side of the story, son?"

He shrugged. "Dunno, I was just minding my own business when all of a sudden she started screaming bloody murder about missing a knife. Honestly, I think it might be that one under her belt, though."

I looked down, and to my surprise, the missing knife was right there. How did he slip it under my belt without me noticing?

"Well, mystery solved," said the Peacekeeper, walking away.

"Yes indeed," the boy from Nine said, giving me sly wink before stalking off.

Niahm Steavlen, 17- District 6 Female

I grabbed a sandwich gloomily from the cart and added it to my tray. Turkey and Swiss on rye. Just like the lunch I had before...

I choked back a sob, remembering the worst day of my life. The day I realized that I was going to die without ever finding a boyfriend.

I laid my head on the table and started crying in earnest. Why did it have to be me? Why was the world so cruel? Why did my partner have to be so ugly?

I had only been crying for a minute before I felt someone dabbing my face with a napkin. It was the girl from Twelve.

"Here," she said, handing me a napkin "I thought you might need this. I'm Julia, by the way."

I accepted the napkin and blew my nose loudly. "Thanks, I'm Niahm."

She placed her tray on the table and slid into the seat across from me. "Some situation we're in huh?"

"Tell me about it," I groaned "you know what the worst part is? I don't even have a boyfriend back home to miss me."

"So? Me neither," she replied.

"What? But you're so exotic and nice-looking!" I blurted out. It was true, with her dark hair, grey eyes and olive skin she was strikingly pretty.

"What?" she laughed "No, my looks are common as dirt where I come from. You would be considered exotic in Twelve though, no one has red hair and freckles."

"But still, how come you don't have a boyfriend?"

"Well, I suppose it's because the one date I've ever went on was so disastrous that I decided not to date any more until I found the right person."

"Ooh what happened?" I asked, bouncing up and down in my seat. "Spill!" Anything to take my mind off my imminent doom.

"Alright, " she gave me a rueful smile "so we were both thirteen, and in District 12 there's only one place to go on dates and that's a leaky cafe in the Hob- our black market. So we sit down, order a bowl of soup because it's the only thing on the menu and start talking. I thought it was going well until he excused himself to go to the bathroom."

I winced, the old dine and ditch. I've only experienced that a hundred times.

"The next thing I knew, the bells were sounded and everyone was screaming about a raid and packing up. I ran outside to the bathroom to find him, only to discover that he was the one that tipped off the Capitol Official. Apparently he was so desperate to ditch me that he was willing to sell out all the vendors at the Hob," she confessed.

"Aww, Julia, he's just a jerk who doesn't deserve you," I said sympathetically, patting her on the shoulder.

She sighed. "I know, but he was such a nice guy that I didn't see it coming."

Suddenly, the bell signalling the end of lunch sounded.

"Oh wait! Um, Julia," I said shyly "during the games. I won't kill anybody. I can't. And I get the feeling you're the same. So would you like to try to stick together and..."

"Are you asking me to ally with you?"

I nodded. Honestly, she was so sweet and jaded, she reminded me of my best friend Anya and I couldn't help but find her trustworthy.

"Alright," she said with a small smile "sounds like a plan."

We decided to stick with the survival stations for the rest of the afternoon and started with the poisons station. We were both equally hopeless.

"District 6, you've died for the tenth time, so have you District 12," the attendant declared.

"Argh, this is impossible," I groaned "how can anyone memorize all the signs and tests in three days?"

"Don't give up already Niahm," Julia chewed her lip "it's only our first try. Let's try to find a pattern here. Half of the poisons can be indicated by silver, see? The ones that aren't either taste bitter or erode the skin."

Oh man, I felt like I was back in school studying for a test. I was never exactly top of the class, or even the middle of the class. After all, I was going to find my prince charming so what was the point of school?

I glanced at Julia who was studying the correct answers with a frown, and my heart lurched. Unlike me, she's never simply sat around expecting someone to save her. I spent all my life waiting, and waiting, for prince charming to save me. But really all I had been doing was losing the ability to save myself.

"Are you ready to give it another go?" She asked.

I straightened my shoulders. "Yes, yes I am."


	14. Training Day 2

Jessamine Grey, 17- District 4 Female

I had spent the first day brushing up on the basic weapons and I only have a couple more left. I decide to try out spear throwing and walked towards that station. There were a few tributes in line but they backed away and fled when they saw me approaching. Honestly though, I'm not a real Career. What are they afraid of? I picked a spear, weighing it in my hand and checking its balance, then I hurled it at the target ten yards away and it hit the dummy in the stomach. These weapons are practically the same as what we practice with in physical training at school, I barely need any instruction from the trainers. I took a quick glance at the tributes around me.

Evidently not everyone here can say the same thing. I winced as the boy from twelve tried to throw the same spear, only to watch it him drop it and trip over his own feet. I almost think it's unfair, the advantage I have from a lifetime of mandatory training before realizing that I can't afford to feel sorry for the other tributes. I have to start thinking of them as my competitors , people who wouldn't hesitate to kill me in a minute.

I head towards my strongest weapon, the swords. I picked up a light foil and beckoned an attendant to spar with me. We exchanged parries for a while before I quickly realized that he was going easy on me.

"It's alright, you don't need to hold back," I said.

"Are you sure about that?"

I nodded.

He upped the speed and I had to hustle to keep up. We kept this up for a few minutes before I was able to duck under his blow and push my sword to his throat.

"I yield," he cried throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

Satisfied with my competence with weaponry, I finally allowed myself to visit the camouflage station. I almost cried with joy when I dipped my brush into the smooth, creamy paint, a far cry from my crushed berries. I thought back to my conversation with Petape on the train, she had promised to make sure I got my share of sponsor gifts, no matter how much our mentors might favour Zeon and made a note to tell her that paints was on the top of my wishlist. Avoiding conflict and not being detected was the cornerstone of my strategy.

I set myself to work painting my arm to match the brick wall behind me. After a few minutes, I put my arm against the wall and it disappeared.

"Wow, that's pretty good," the attendent said "are you ready for something harder?"

I hesitated. I could spend the rest of my training at this station, I really could, but I already knew how to paint so I knew I should spend my time on the skills I lacked. Mags had told us to pay attention to the survival stations because they always hinted at what the arena would be.

Yesterday I had made note of every survival station. When I saw the lock-pick station I knew that there was going to be some sort of building. A few years back the arena was inside an insane asylum, where several tributes ended up going mad.

I sat down on the bench at the lock-pick station and picked up a simple lock and a hooked piece of metal. The attendent explained how to use a tension wrench to turn the lock and the pick to push the pins in position and demonstrated on the lock I was holding. I tried to imitate him, but failed miserably. After a dozen attempts, I was no closer to getting it open than I was when I started.

"It's alright honey, it's a hard skill to master, took me weeks to pick my first lock," the attendent said kindly.

"Then how am I supposed to be able to do this in time for the games?" I burst out in frustration.

I heard a snort and glanced at the tribute next to me.

"Oh boohoo, you can't do one thing and you throw a fucking tantrum. Try being like the rest of us, where every single station is something we've never seen in our lives," the girl from Eleven snarled.

I bit my lip and looked away. Her words stung, but only because they were right. I risked a peek at her, only go see she was still glaring at me. Her hatred, only accentuated by her cruel beatuy sent chills down my spine.

"What are you looking at?" She hissed through her teeth.

"I-I-um-," I stammered. I backed away slowly and then turned around and ran. Not my proudest moment, but that girl was a snake who saw me as her prey.

Lustre Cardonell, 18- District 1 Male

"Hey Tia, what do you think of our allies?" I asked as we stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for four. Zeon invited all of us to his apartment for dinner to 'get to know us better', which I assume means talk strategy.

"Hmph. I like McKenzie, but Gaston is driving me crazy," she grumbled.

"Yeah, I know, but for a huge clown he's actually pretty good," I said grudgingly.

For the past two days we've been subject to his barrage of announcements every time he did something.

'Nobody shoots arrows like Gaston!' he said before triple-nocking his bow and hitting three dummies in the eye. 'Nobody swings axes like Gaston!' he said before beheading a circle of dummies. 'Nobody throws spears like Gaston!' he said before skewering five dummies fifty yards away in a single throw. I hate to admit it, but I guess you really can't judge someone by how stupid they act.

"Does that mean I can't kill him in the bloodbath?" she whined.

"No, he's too useful to kill off," I replied as we stepped out the elevator and ran into the tributes from Two.

"Hello friends! What are you guys talking about?" Gaston boomed. Then he farted.

"We aren't your friends," Tia said flatly.

"Oh ho! You say that but nobody gets the ladies like Gaston!" he cried, grabbing Tia and McKenzie around their waists.

Luckily, the door opened before they actually killed him right there.

"Hey guys! Glad you could make it," Zeon poked his head out the door, gesturing us to come in.

I took a quick look around, unlike our apartment which was gold and diamond themed, the District 4 apartment was clearly aquatic themed, with a running waterfall and wall-to-wall fish tanks.

"C'mon I ordered your favourites," he called walking to the dining table dressed only in a soaking wet towel around his waist. I guess he just came out of the shower and didn't have the chance to get dressed.

Before he sat down he threw off the towel so he was completely naked. Maybe it was a cultural thing? After all, he came from the fishing district where they were in and out of the water all the time so it probably made sense to forgo clothing.

He poured us all a glass of champagne.

"To us," he said with a grin and we clinked our glasses together.

I took a sip, letting the sweet floral tone wash over my tongue. Yum, this Capitol champagne is a lot better than anything I've had in One. I could tell Tia was thinking the same thing as she downed her glass in one gulp.

Zeon pulled a length of rope from somewhere and started tying around his neck, then his chest, until it was knotted around his body. Good on him, he probably wanted to practice his knots because they might come in handy later in the games.

"So, about the bloodbath," I began, surprised at how slow and slurred my speech was. Did I really drink that much? I heard a small thump and turned my head to see Tia slumped on the table. I tried to get up to see what was wrong with her, but I couldn't move my body.

Shit! I started to struggle furiously but I couldn't move a muscle. From the corner of my eye I could see Zeon approach me, licking his lips. Suddenly, I realized that this was his plan all along, he never wanted to discuss strategy!

"Oh honey, I've wanted to do this for a long time," he purred, pulling my shirt over my head.

Oh my god. How could we all be so stupid! Mom, dad, please forgive me for what you're about to see. I braced myself for the inevitable, but just as he was reaching for my belt, someone smashed a bottle over his head and he fell to the floor with a groan.

I rolled my eyeballs as far as I could to see McKenzie kick away his body in disgust.

"Rule number 5, assume your food has been compromised unless proven otherwise," she said stonily.

I practically wept with relief. Thankyouthankyouthankyou McKenzie! Talk about a close call.

She picked up a phone and asked for the antidote for flunitrazepam. It arrived in in less than a minute and she injected the antidote for us. When Zeon started to stir she kneed him in the head and knocked him out for a second time. I finally started to regain movement in my fingers and toes, then my arms and legs, and then finally the rest of by body.

"Hey Tia, are you alright?" I pulled her up from the table.

"Uh huh," she said groggily, resting her head in her hand "what happened?"

"This little shit tried to drug and rape us," McKenzie growled.

"Really?"

"Yeah, I can hardly believe it either," I said darkly "I don't know about you guys but I really don't feel comfortable working with him any more."

"Well then let's kick him out!" Gaston boomed. Then he farted. "All in favour?"

"Aye," we said at once.

We duct-taped him to the ceiling and left him a note.

_Hey Zeon, _

_Guess what? Thanks to that stunt you just pulled you're out of the Career pack. Good luck making it on your own in the games and "may the odds be ever in your favour." _

_Signed,_

_McKenzie, Lustre, Tia, and Gaston_

Andreea Moore, 15- District 11 Female

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

The second day of training's over and I'm still fucked. I haven't found a guy to protect me and I can't survive for shit.

"Andreea?" I heard Seeder rapping lightly on my door.

"Don't come in, unless you want to see me naked."

She opened the door anyway.

"Wow Seeder, didn't know you swung that way," I said sarcastically.

She rolled her eyes. "You aren't even naked Andreea, and anyway I need to talk to you."

"About what?"

"When I heard your name at the Reaping I thought it sounded familiar but I didn't remember why until now. I remember my granddaughter coming home one day and complaining about some girl who stole her boyfriend, on the day of their anniverser-,"

"Yeah, that was me," I said casually before she could finish.

"A few days later, she said her friend's boyfriend cheated on her with-"

"That was me too."

"And then her other friend's-"

"Yup, me too."

There was a short pause.

"Are you proud of yourself Andreea?" she said quietly.

"Hell yeah."

"Are you really? Because deep down I don't see a tramp who likes to sleep around to be cruel, but a sad little girl who's just desperate for-"

Something inside me snapped, because Seeder just hit a little too close to home.

"FUCK OFF!" I screamed, jumping to my feet.

"I don't have to listen to your fucking lies!"

I ran out the apartment and through a door labelled STAIRS, running up the stairs until I arrived at the roof. It was late out, but the sky wasn't even close to being dark with all the neon lights and fireworks. I looked around, panting to catch my breath. The roof was actually quite nice, a garden with potted trees and flower beds around a gurgling fountain. I leaned against the railing and sighed. What the fuck does Seeder know, anyway? I thought back to all my proudest accomplishments:

Me at eleven years old, the first girl in my class to grow boobs.

Me at eleven years old, the first girl in my class to get a boyfriend.

Me at twelve years old, dating every guy in my class and crossing their names off my list.

Me at thirteen years old, stealing Lisa Morrisette's boyfriend.

Me at fourteen years old, stealing Ruta Smith's boyfriend.

Me at fifteen years old, stealing Beatrice Donovan's boyfriend.

And this was just baby stuff, if I hadn't been reaped I could be stealing husbands and causing divorces as an adult! The thought of missing out what could have been a perfect life made me collapse on my knees and punch the ground in frustration.

"Hey honey, why so angry?" A voice asked from behind me.

I turned around to see the boy from Four emerge from the fountain.

What the hell? How long had he been underwater?

"None of your fucking business," I snarled "and shouldn't you be with your friends, discussing the best way to cut me open for ratings?"

He walked up to me, completely naked and shook his head, "Nah, they kicked me out of the Careers."

My jaw dropped. "Why?" The gears in my head began turning. If this was true and he was available for an alliance, then maybe...

"Cause I drugged their drinks and tried to rape them."

What the hell is wrong with this guy? Well, beggers can't be choosers.

"Aw, that's no excuse to stop allying with someone," I lied, putting my arm around his shoulders.

"I know right? Especially because I have a _condition, _that requires me to have constant sex."

"What kind of condition is that?" I asked, half confused, half curious. Hell, if that condition was real I might need to get tested for it.

He winked. "I'm-a-hornyslutitus?"

I burst out laughing. "I'm-a-what now?"

He gave me a teasing smirk. "You know, I just gotta get some, from wherever I can. It doesn't matter if it's a girl, guy, squirrel, hole in a tree, any hole's a goal."

Oh my god this guy is perfect for me.

"You know, we can work something out," I said slyly, twirling a strand of hair around my finger "I don't have any allies either, when the games start why don't we work together?"

"You aren't scared I'll try to rape you?" He asked curiously.

I gave him a seductive pout and brushed his chest with my fingers. "It's not rape if it's consensual."


	15. Training Day 3

Jeremiah Dipper, 17- District 9 Male

"Your grip's sloppy and your centre is off balance," Rosmerta barked, "What's rule number 34?"

I tightened my grip on my sword and shifted my weight to my back leg. "Proper form and technique are the difference between life and death," I recited.

I had only gone to training on the first day, and that was just to steal a bunch of weapons to practice with Rosmerta in my room. From morning to night I've been practising practically non-stop and memorizing hundreds of her Career rules, not in their numerical order but in the order they came up in our practice.

"Hey love," I grunted when her sword clashed against mine "what's rule number 1?"

"Don't worry about it, it doesn't apply to you." She lowered her sword and wiped the sweat off her brow. "Alright, let's take a break."

I grabbed my sports beverage and took a long drink. Blimey, for the past few days I've been seeing a whole other side of Rosmerta, quite a nasty shock to find out how bossy she could be.

"Hey Dip, can I ask you something?"

"Sure love."

"Tell me about your family."

I put down my bottle slowly and turned to face her.

"What? I've told you already, my parents died when I was nine so I ended up in the community home. I hated that place so much that I started sleeping in the back room of a gym until the owner found me. I begged him to let me stay in exchange for doing odd jobs and he only took me in because he was sick of scrubbing the toilets. Eventually, he took a shine to me and considered me part of his family, and I began calling him Uncle Sid and he taught me some of his more shady ways of making a living." The lie slid off my tongue easily.

"That's bullshit. What's rule number 15?"

I sighed. "Watch people carefully and make note of every nuance until you can see when they're lying by their tell."

She nodded. "I've noticed that you always duck your head just the slightest bit to the right whenever you're lying. Not something people can tell if it's the first time they've seen you but I've watched you lie too many times to not know."

I sighed again. "Do we really have to do this now?" I asked.

"I told you why I hate the Capitol, it's only fair you tell me the truth about your family." She walked over to the screen and ordered tea and chocolate biscuits. In less than a minute, if appeared hot and steaming on intricately patterned china.

I poured myself a cup and added a spoonful of sugar. "Alright love, I suppose you deserve to know the truth."

"Then begin."

Where do I even begin? "My dad's name is Wilfred Dipper and my mum's is Margaret Dipper," I said slowly. "I also have an older sister, Catarina, but she's married and has her own family now. We lived alright, in a two-bedroom flat in the Lower-East End because both my parents worked as schoolteachers."

"Wait, so they're still alive?" she interrupted.

I nodded. "They were, I mean still are, very nice people but I felt different from them, like I didn't belong. I always told everyone that I was adopted and they would actually believe me because I look nothing like my sister. My parents' idea of a good time was sitting at a desk for hours, reading books and occasionally writing something down. Catarina loved it, but books were boring and I could never sit still for long. I thought something was wrong with me because I was the only one on both sides of the family who hated school and didn't want to be a teacher, until I found out about my mum's brother, the black sheep of the family."

"So Uncle Sid is actually a blood relative?"

"Yes. Nobody liked to talk about him, I only found out about him by accident, when my grandmother came to visit and mentioned that she saw her 'no-good rotten lazy free-loading thieving devil-spawn' roaring drunk outside a pub at the Upper-West End. So I begged my mum to tell me about him, and it turned out she's been dying to talk about her only brother who ran off when he was sixteen to seek his own fortune."

"Wait, I thought your Uncle Sid's gym is in the red?"

"Evidently he wasn't very successful in his goal. Anyway, mum told me that her brother flunked almost every test he took, was a disappointment to my grandparents, and was eventually expelled for running an illegal gambling den at school. She made him seem like quite the character, nicking the headmistress' knickers and stringing them on the flagpole, sneaking alcohol in class, and 'borrowing' money from the school treasury and returning the loan when his business schemes panned out. I dunno, maybe she meant for him to be a cautionary tale but I was fascinated with this man."

"So you ran away then to find him?"

"No, you know District 9's too big to find a single person on just a name and a reputation. I waited until the Reaping, when my sister was in the fourteens and I was still too young to be reaped. I told my parents I needed to use the bathroom and looked for the racketeers, those who take bets on the kids being drawn, whispering odds on their ages and which end of town they're from. I found him easily, based on photos from family albums and begged him to take me in. I was surprised at how quickly he gave in, maybe he understood how I felt and knew I was better off with him than with my parents."

"Your parents didn't object?"

"Oh, they tried, they begged me to come back but I was happier than I ever was with Uncle Sid and they gave up after two years. My sister became a teacher as well and married some dead-boring bloke, another schoolteacher and had a son. I secretly check up on them from time to time to make sure they're alright, and I was actually planning to enrol young Isaac in the School of Ten-Bells when he was older, kind of carry on the uncle legacy, see?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I see, but I don't understand why you kept this from me all this time, why all the secrecy?"

I shrugged. "If I told you the truth you would have dragged me back to my parents, right love?"

"Yeah, I would have," she chuckled. "Holy crap look at the time! You're late for the private sessions!" she yelped.

"Bloody hell Rosmerta, if I get a zero it's your fault!" I called, running for the stairs.


	16. Private Sessions and Scores

Lustre Cardonell, 18- District 1 Male

I debated on how I should show-off and asked for a knife-throwing attendent. She walked in and hurled knife after knife at me. I grabbed a spear and twirled it casually in my hand, catching all her knives in the shaft. I gave my spear a vicious twist, causing all her knives to fly back at her, pinning her against the wall.

Score: 9

* * *

><p>Tiara Carter, 18- District 1 Female<p>

I walked in, pulled a sword from the rack and asked to duel two attendents at once. I won handily.

Score: 9

* * *

><p>Gaston LeGume, 18- District 2 Male<p>

"No one can lift weights like Gaston!" I boasted, bench pressing three-fifty. "No one can climb like Gaston!" I boasted, back-flipping up the climbing wall. "No one can shoot like Gaston!" I boasted, shooting a bulls-eye and then splitting the first arrow in half with a second shot. Then I farted.

Score: 10

* * *

><p>Claire McKenzie, 18- District 2 Female<p>

I selected a shiny double-headed ax and asked to duel simultaneously with a swordsman, an axeman, and a spearman. They surrounded me and I quickly disarmed the swordsman, grabbing his sword in mid-air. Using the flat of my ax as a shield against the spearman's reach, I out-maneuvered the axeman with my sword and then slashed the spearm's spear in half with my ax.

Score: 10

* * *

><p>Zeon Thatcher, 18- District 4 Male<p>

I grabbed a dummy and speared it through the bottom, removed the spear, and mounted it in dominance. "Ugh ugh ugh yeah, who's your daddy?" I panted.

"Can you please keep this safe for work?" a Gamemaker called.

"Fine, fine," I sighed, grabbing various weapons and destroying dummies.

Score: 9

* * *

><p>Jessamine Grey, 17- District 4 Female<p>

I brought a sword over to the camouflage station and set myself to work painting both my body and the sword to match the stone wall behind me. When I was finished I asked for an attendent with any weapon specialty. A spearman entered the room and looked around in confusion. I waited until he walked past me and struck out my arm, holding my sword against his neck.

"I win," I said softly.

Score: 8

* * *

><p>Niahm Steavlen, 17- District 6 Female<p>

I started up the poisons simulation nervously, checking and double checking my answers. I managed to finish without dying once and walked up to the first aid station. After a quick assessment of the dummy, I cut off the infected bit and dressed the wound.

Score: 4

* * *

><p>Derek Walker, 17- District 8 Male<p>

I asked for an attendent to wrestle. We started circling each other in the ring, sizing up one another. I widened my eyes and pointed past his shoulder. "Hey isn't that..."

He made the mistake of looking over his shoulder and I slammed him to the floor.

Score: 7

* * *

><p>Jeremiah Dipper, 17- District 9 Male<p>

I skidded into the gymnasium, almost falling flat on my face. "Can I have a volunteer from the audience?" I gasped out.

One of the Gamemakers shrugged and stepped down from the balcony.

Once I caught my breath, I gave the fellow a twirl and sent him away with a push to his back. When he was back in his chair I pulled out his wallet, handkerchief, cuff links, tie pin, and a naked picture of Finnick Odair from my pockets. I pointed to his back and he twisted around, revealing a knife I had threaded through his jacket to the rest of the Gamemakers.

Score: 6

* * *

><p>Andreea Moore, 15- District 11 Female<p>

Fuck me, I don't know how to do anything! I glanced at the all-male team of Gamemakers and got an idea.

I hummed a sultry tune as I wiggled seductively out of my clothes.

"Hey boys, do you like what you see?" I purred.

They glanced at each other uncomfortably. "Sorry, everyone here is gay," someone called out.

Well, fuck.

Score: 1

* * *

><p>Julia Hill, 15- District 12 Female<p>

By the time I walked in all the Gamemakers looked exhausted and ready to go home. Not wanting to keep them any longer, I hurried through the poisons station and the obstacle course.

"Thank you for your consideration," I said politely with a curtsey.

Score: 4


	17. Interview Training

Niahm Steavlen, 17- District 6 Female

"So, tell us, what motivates you?" Caesar asked.

I clicked the pause button. "Ok Julia, your turn, what motivates you?"

"Ummm," she wrinkled her nose "my younger brother I guess? Because I want to be around to set a good example for him... oh I don't know. What did the girl from Three say?"

I clicked the play button.

"My various work-in-progresses back home. Amoung other things, I was developing a lipstick that could change color with mood, but I guess I can finish it after my victory party," she said with a sly wink.

There was a murmur of interest in the audience.

"Oh that was a really good answer," Julia said with a sigh.

"Yeah, it was," I said enviously. How did they manage to come up with such witty responses on the spot? I could barely stammer out a coherent response when I was flustered, what was I going to do when I was being cross-examined in front of everyone in the world? I sighed and reached for another glazed sugar cookie.

I was sitting cross-legged on Julia's bed next to her with an array of Capitol delicacies strewn around us. We decided to practice for the interviews together by re-watching the interview segment of past games and drilling each other. I had a feeling that something like this was our mentors' job, but because both our mentors are currently incapacitated (with booze and morphling) at the moment, we decided to take things in our own hands.

This was actually quite fun, it reminded me of my sleepovers with Anya where we would watch Capitol dramas and mimic their ridiculous accents while munching on popcorn. _Anya, _I thought with a pang. I wonder what she was doing now, was she crying over losing her best friend? Or praying fervently that she didn't have to? I fidgeted with the corner of Julia's duvet anxiously. I want to win, I really do, but that means wishing that everyone else will die, including my new friend.

"Hey Julia, what do you think happens when there's two tributes left and they refuse to kill each other? I asked. I've actually never seen a game where the final two were from the same alliance and unwilling to betray each other.

"The Gamemakers probably blast one of them sky-high so they can have their victor," she said grimly.

I sighed. I thought so.

Julia grabbed the remote and fast-forwarded to the next tribute.

"What skills are you going to bring to the field?" Caesar asked with a wide smile to the shaking twelve-year old boy sitting across from him.

Suddenly a sour taste rose to my mouth and I felt like throwing up.

"Niahm, are you okay?" Julia asked in concern.

I shook my head. "No, I'm not," I said shakily "because the truth is that I don't have _anything _to bring to the field and I'm probably going to be one of the first ones to die."

"That's not true, you know your poisons and first aid as well as most of the other survival skills," she began.

"Not anymore than all the other tributes, I have no special skills Julia, I'm _useless_!" My eyes started to sting with tears.

"No Niahm, don't say that," Julia said firmly, grabbing my shoulders " everybody has something to bring to the field, think! What did you use to do District 6?"

I hiccupped. "After school I worked at the auto parts factory..."

"What did you do?"

"I soldered the car doors to the frames, but oh what does it matter? It's not like the Hunger Games is going to be some door-soldering contest where the fastest assemblers win!" I burst out.

There was an awkward pause.

"Pfft..." Julia tried to hide her snickering behind her hand.

"I'm sorry Niahm, that was terrible of me I shouldn't have laughed," she began.

I felt myself smiling, and before I could help it I was laughing too. I don't know why, it wasn't funny at all, but I guess we're both so nervous about the interviews and more pressingly, petrified of dying in the Games that we aren't acting sensibly. There's something therapeutic about a good laugh though, and when our giggles finally died down I was feeling better than I have for a long time.

"What did you use to do in District 12 Julia?" I asked curiously.

"Other than school, nothing much. We aren't allowed to work until we're 18 so I spent most of my free time in the library."

"Wow, that's lucky, in District 6 we have to start working four-hour shifts after school when we're ten, so there's not a lot of free time for us."

She shook her head. "No, you're the lucky ones," she corrected "everybody I know would love to be able to work and contribute another income to their family, it would be a lot better than sitting around dying of starvation, but it's illegal," she sighed.

I didn't know that. I didn't know much about the other districts other than what we're taught in school, which was barely more than where they were located on the map and their district trade. It suddenly made sense why District 12 always looked so listless and beaten down during their Reapings, they're starving. I supposed that Julia didn't know much about District 6 either and might be curious. So I told her.

I told her about the roads and subway system and how you couldn't get anywhere on foot. I told her about working in factories assembling cars no one in our district will ever drive. Six hours of school, then a four hour shift doing the same thing, in my case stabbing hot metal through two layers of metal over and over almost every single day. How my hands used to bleed until they scabbed over and developed calllouses. How life was so dull that you couldn't help but fantasize and daydream about make-believe to get through your shift. In District 6, you had to fight to stay positive and optimistic, the alterative was to fall into depression and then turn to morphling like I've seen too many people, including my mentors do. It was a miserable existence, you could tell by their sallow, sagging skin and lethargic expressions that they've just given up on life. But I was never like that then, and I'm not going to be like that now. Because even though I'm going into the Hunger Games where almost everybody I've met in the past three days is going to kill me, I don't want to die.

I want to live.


	18. Interviews

**Important A/N! I need a better title for this story, can you guys suggest some? It needs to be related to the arena, the Hunger Games and the number 69. Also I need ideas on what happens in the arena and shit.**

**Once again everything is at my discretion, but don't stress that your idea sounds stupid or I won't take you seriously. I accepted Gaston as a tribute for fucks sake, and he's actually one of my favorite characters. **

Tiara Carter, 18- District 1 Female

"What do you think of your allies so far?" Caesar asked. That man has had more procedures done than the pre-Dark Days star Kim Kardashian. This year Mr. Flickerman had died his hair and eye-brows stone grey. It just made him look older than he really was in my opinion. Or maybe it was his natural colour which just looks odd framing his botoxed forehead and blinding white teeth. dunno, I forgot how old he was.

"Oh, they're all very skilled and I look forward to working with them," I lied.

"Especially me!" Gaston cried from his seat. Then he farted.

I groaned inwardly.

* * *

><p><span>Lustre Cardonell, 18- District 1 Male<span>

"So Lustre, what's something you find challenging?"

"Cooking," I replied "I have no idea what to do when I'm in the kitchen. One time I tried to make spaghetti and the pot actually caught on fire. When I tried to put it out, the whole dish towel caught on fire too! Nearly burned down the kitchen, and needless to say, the pot had to be thrown out."

Caesar chuckled. "And I thought I was bad at cooking," he turned to the cameras, "honey, you can't complain about my penne Alfredo anymore." He turned back to me, "I bet your mother was angry though, what did she say?"

I took a deep breath. "Actually I don't have a mother. Or a father, they died when I was eleven and I've been living alone ever since."

"Awwwww," the audience cooed sympathetically.

"That must have been tough, what was the hardest part of living alone?" Caesar asked kindly.

Shit. I began to sweat under my collar. What could I say without sounding like a total wuss? Running under my covers after I flicked off the lights because I was scared monsters would get me? Jumping at every sound at night thinking it's a murderer who broke in? Begging Tia to sleep over when it was raining so I could have someone to hold me during the thunderstorm?

"Lustre?" he asked, bringing me back to reality "Are you alright?"

"Yeah, um like I said I can't cook so I had to order take-out all the time. Eventually you get tired of pizza for every meal."

The audience laughed. _Phew. _

* * *

><p><span>Claire McKenzie, 18- District 2 Female<span>

"That's a beautiful dress you have on tonight Claire," he announced.

"Thank you Caesar," I said modestly, smoothing the skirt of my Grey tulle dress "it's actually my first time wearing something feminine, I'm more of a sweats and hoodie kind of girl."

"So what are your measurements, top to bottom?"

My jaw dropped. "Um, excuse me?"

He winked "Just playing with you, hon. Anyway, do you have a boy back home?"

"Yeah, my best friend Jason, he's gay though so there's no chance of anything happening between us."

"Are you sure Claire? Because with the right haircut and a deeper voice you could be a real contender!"

The audience roared with laughter. What. The. Hell. Everybody said that Caesar tries to help you out and bring out the best in you, why was he trying to make me look like a fool? I clenched my fists in my lap. Well, two could at that game.

"Haven't you ever been mistaken for a man before?" He asked curiously.

"No, I haven't," I replied coolly "have _you_?"

"Oooooh," the audience gasped.

He clutched his heart as if I had stabbed him, which I would have if I had anything with me. "Ok, ok, I deserved that," he laughed.

* * *

><p><span>Gaston LeGume, 18- District 2 Male<span>

"Tell us about yourself Gaston," he asked.

"Well, let's start with the fact that I'm a man. The manliest man in the world, in fact." I struck a body-builder pose and winked at the cameras.

"Oh really?" he said with a raise of an eyebrow.

I flexed my impressive muscles, "As you see, I've got biceps to spare! Not a bit of me's scraggly or scrawny, and every inch's covered in hair!" I declared, ripping open my shirt for everybody to see. Then I farted.

"Yes, um indeed," Caesar gagged and reached for his handkerchief.

* * *

><p><span>Jessamine Grey, 17- District 4 Female<span>

"So Jess, your escort says you're quite the artist," he said, still holding his handkerchief to his nose.

I don't blame him, it smells like rotten eggs and sweaty socks in the summer Sun, and I have to sit in it. I sighed, at least I don't have to hang around Gaston during the actual games, I don't know how the others are going to manage. Maybe they'll kill him at the bloodbath, I don't know.

"Yes," I wheezed.

"Can you paint us something?" He snapped his fingers and avoxes placed an aisle and a full set of paints in front of me.

"Um ok, I can try," I said. I had less than three minutes so I quickly sketched out a portrait of the gorgeous girl from Eleven who was resting her head on her hands, not paying any attention at all to the interviews.

I turned the aisle around nervously.

"Oh my god, it's beautiful!" Caesar exclaimed. "I think I'm going to keep it!"

"I'll give you a thousand dollars for it!" someone in the audience shouted.

"I'll give you two thousand!" someone else shouted.

"Two thousand, do I hear three thousand?" Caesar asked the audience, quickly playing up the role of auctioneer.

"Three thousand!" someone shouted.

"Threethousand? Going once, going twice... Sold! To the woman in the fur coat... No wait that's just her skin."

I couldn't hold back my grin. This is what it's like to be an artist, to have your creation be recognized and acknowledged. I only wish Alec was still alive to see this.

* * *

><p><span>Zeon Thatcher, 18- District 4 Male<span>

"What is your greatest asset Zeon?" he asked.

"Well obviously it's my twelve inch ding-dong doodly!" I said proudly.

He raised an eyebrow, "What on earth's a ding-dong doodly?"

"Here, I'll show you," I said, taking off my pants.

"No! It's alright Zeon, let's keep it safe for kids here," he yelped, covering the camera lens.

* * *

><p><span>Niahm Steavlen, 17- District 6 Female<span>

"Are you prepared for the games Niahm?"

I wanted to say no. "Yes," I lied.

"What are you going to wow us with?"

_Nothing. _"Well Caesar, you'll find out soon enough," I said mysteriously, tossing my hair over my shoulder like the girl from Three on tape.

"I like the sound of that!" he exclaimed "What are you going to do with your winnings once you're back in Six?"

I wanted to laugh, either he was mocking me or he was a bigger pretender than I was.

"Well, I would remodel my house in Victor's village to be like a fairy-tale castle, with a library and ballroom and a balcony of course."

"Sounds nice, let's make that fantasy a reality huh?" He gave me a nudge and a wink.

"I will," I promised. The first truth I've said all evening.

* * *

><p>Derek Walker, 17- District 8 Male<p>

"So Derek-,"

"It's Duke."

"Alright, so Duke, what's your proudest achievement?"

"I dunno," I said in a bored tone. Man, interviews are such a drag. Good thing is that it's only three minutes long.

"What's your greatest strength?"

"I dunno."

He grit his teeth and tried to smile. "Ah, keeping it a mystery for the games huh?"

"I dunno."

He turned to the audience and rolled his eyes. "Are you going to answer every question I ask with 'I dunno'?" he asked in exasperation.

There was a long pause and you could hear a pin drop.

Then the boy from Two farted.

"I dunno."

* * *

><p><span>Jeremiah Dipper, 17- District 9 Male<span>

"Hey Jeremiah, how're you feeling tonight?" Caesar asked.

"Could be better, but can't complain, mate. Let me ask you something though, who do you have your money on this year?"

"Well, I'm not allowed to bet, but if I could I guess I would put my money on Claire or Lustre. Can't go wrong betting on the favourites eh?"

The audience roared with approval.

"Ah, that's where you're wrong, the Careers are practically even money. Me on the other hand, if you bet right now, pays off 32-1, a much more lucrative business opportunity. Sure, sponsor gifts cut into your profit, but if you split the cost between several mates you'll still come out farther ahead than betting on the Careers."

There was a murmur of interest in the audience.

"Wow, you know your stuff," he said, impressed. "You must have been real gambler back home, well that or a bookie. We saw that you were actually incarcerated during your Reaping, what did they get you for?"

I rolled my eyes, "Rotten pigs got me for a doubles murder, would have been triple if they hadn't shown up so fast."

There was another murmur of interest from the audience. Excellent.

"Uh, guys, I think I need to get some backup over here, " Caesar joked, pretending to inch away from me.

* * *

><p><span>Andreea Moore, 15- District 11 Female<span>

"What do you think of the Capitol, Andreea?"

"It's fucking disgusting," I said coldy.

"Er, what?" The smile sliped off Caesar's face and he glanced at the Peacekeepers.

Not that I give a fuck, they're sending me off to die tomorrow, what can they possibly do to me?

"I think you're all a bunch of donkey raping shit eaters, you shit-faced cock master," I said smugly. I expected the Peacekeepers to come drag me off and rip out my tongue but instead, the audience bursted into laughter.

"It's funny cause it's true!" someone in the audience called.

"Well, that was a real knee-slapper_,_" Caesar said with relief, mopping the sweat off his brow with his handkerchief. "Tell us another one!"

My jaw dropped. How stupid can these people be? "You're a cock-sucking, ass-licking uncle fucker," I said slowly.

"He is!" someone from the audience called.

"Oh my god, it was that one time!" Caesar rolled his eyes "Tell me, who here hasn't slept with their uncle eh?"

The audience buzzed as they started sharing stories of incest, beastiality, homosexuality, and fetishes I've never even heard of. I had to pick my jaw up off the floor.

Holy Jesus, I'm a fucking prude compared to these freaks.

* * *

><p><span>Julia Hill, 15- District 12 Female<span>

"How are you finding Haymitch, Julia?" Caesar asked.

"Oh he's um, really, um," I stuttered.

"Drunk off his bum, isn't that right honey?"Caesar laughed.

The cameras panned to Haymitch in the mentor's box, toasting an imaginary friend with an entire bottle of wine. How he managed to actually win his games I don't know.

"It's alright, once you win District 12 will finally have a decent mentor eh?"

"Yes," I said, trying to sound confident "it's about time that District 12 had another victor, we've had a bit of a dry spell but that's going to change this year."

"What makes you say that, Julia?"

"Because District 12 has never had a tribute like me," I said determinedly.

**Once again, important A/N! I need a better title for this story, can you guys suggest some? It needs to be related to the arena, the Hunger Games and the number 69. 69pussydestroyer69 out.**


	19. Final Night

Derek Walker, 17- District 8 Male

Apparently the Training Center has a tower that will house us until the actual games begin. After the parade, our escort hustled us into a taxi to ride for a whopping five minutes to the tower. Seriously, we could have walked but I guess they're scared that we might try to make a run for it. Once in the tower, the forcefields and Peacekeepers eliminate any chance of escape. We crammed ourselves in the elevator and our escort pressed the 8 button.

"My hair!" She cried in dismay when the tassel of my tapestry costume knocked her pouffy blue wig off-kilter.

"Sorry," I muttered.

The elevator zoomed upwards and in less than a second, stopped with a ding.

"Voila, your home away from home!"

I surveyed the place with disgust. This apartment must be bigger than most houses in District 8 and the gaudy silken decor alone probably costs more than what an average family makes a year.

Our escort clapped her hands with glee. "Are you hungry darlings? I'm absolutely _famished._"

From what? All she did was walk us from the train to the taxi, then from the chariot to another taxi. Some people, man.

"Go change and wash up, dinner will be ready in just a minute." She disappeared out the door and I walked into the bedroom labeled District 8 male.

I had actually been able to wear my own clothes under my costume, which was a gold and red silk tapestry of a lion with holes for my head and arms. All I had to do was rip the top layer off and I was good to go.

I sat down at the dining table with my partner and our mentors and immediately we were served by avoxes in white tunics. Apparently our escort had gone ahead and ordered our favourite dishes for us because they set down our food without instruction. I picked at my rosemary chicken steak with a side of buttered peas sullenly as my partner wolfed down her own dish.

"Derek? Is there something wrong with your meal?" Cecelia asked softly.

I shook my head. "Naw, the food's great, I'm just tired."

"Why don't you go to bed, you have a big day tomorrow." Cecelia placed a hand gently on my shoulder and gave me a reassuring smile. She's a nice lady, the kind of mother everybody wishes they had, hell, as much as I love my mama she's the kind of mother I wish I had.

"Yeah, I think I'll do that," I muttered.

I walked into my bedroom where an avox was waiting. I took off my clothes while the room was still dark and handed them to him to launder.

"Listen man, these clothes are really important to me, they're the only clothes here I feel comfortable wearing so if you can get them back by tomorrow morning before I leave for training I would-"

He punched me across the face before I could finish. I spat out a mouthful of blood and turned to glare at him.

"The hell did I ever do to you?"

He flicked on the lights and I finally got a good look at his face. To my surprise, it was a face I recognized.

"Konan?"

He nodded.

I sat down on the bed, my head reeling.

"What the hell happened man? Is this because you missed the Reaping? What happened to all your friends?"

He pulled a notebook and pen from his shirt and scribbled a response.

_They're in jail right now and I would be there with them, but I was reaped and evasion is considered high-treason. This is all your fault too, if you hadn't shown up we would have been fine._

I punched him back, hard.

"Idiot, if you had been in the square you would be the one dying in the arena in a few days." Suddenly, I realized how serious my situation was. I had been denying it and blocking it from my mind since the Reaping but the truth is that in a few days, I would be dead. The room started to spin I began to hyperventilate.

Konan shook his head and scribbled another response.

_No blockhead, I was serious, if I was reaped I would win. Before meeting you I was the undefeated champion of the streets. The Careers don't have shit on me. One person wins every year, why wouldn't it be me?_

He had a point. One person did win every year, Cecelia did, Woof did. I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If they could do it, why couldn't I? I closed my eyes until the room stopped spinning. I don't have to die. All I have to do is make sure I outlive everybody else. Unlike most of the other tributes, I was the number one street fighter back home, I had a real chance.

Konan wrote me another message.

_Listen, I heard that victors get everything they want, including their own avoxes to bring back home to work for them. You gotta win and take me home. It's my only chance, I need to be around for my family. Right now, nobody 's there to help out my mom with the rent, nobody's there to be the father I never had for my brother, nobody's there to defend my crew and our streets. I was called the King for a reason, I looked after the people I cared about and they depend on me. I heard that Duke Derek's not a bad guy at heart, so will you do this?_

...

What's it like to have people you care about? I wouldn't know, my father walked out before I was born and my mother died in a factory explosion when I was eight. I was in the community home ever since, where I quickly learned that nobody gave a shit about you. Maybe it was because I had nobody I cared about that I was so good at street fighting. Unlike the King, or Bloody Baron, or Lady Freja who took it on themselves to protect their turf, I had none. I always fought like I had nothing to lose, and I never thought that would change. But if I lost here, it would be the end for me, this is the one fight I can't lose.

"I'll do it."


	20. Launch and Bloodbath

**Important author's note: I a few ideas planned out but I need more. Also, Tia, Gaston, and Zeon are fillers who have no chance of winning so they won't get POV's. Other than that, I haven't decided on a victor yet so its up for grabs****. Vote on my poll. **

Niahm Steavlen, 17- District 6 Female

I struggled to keep my breakfast down as I showered and cleaned my teeth. My stylist did my hair in my usual two braids. Then the clothes arrived, the same for every tribute. This year's uniform looks alright, leggings, tan trousers, a tunic and a sturdy brown belt. The boots, worn over skintight socks, are better than I could have hoped for. Soft leather with a flexible rubber sole and treads, good for running. When I'm finished my stylist pulled out my empty purse that had once held Cinnamon.

"Sorry dear, he didn't clear the review board. The Gamemakers thought it would be unfair if you already started out with a source of food."

"What?! Cinnamon's not food!" I said indignantly.

"I know dear," she sighed, petting her miniature poodle zipped inside her own purse "but you know the Gamemakers can be such stubborn stick-in-the muds. Ah well, there's nothing to do but wait for the call."

Oh no, I was hoping to have my lucky Cinnamon with me during the games. Well, maybe not so lucky since I was reaped anyway. Nervousness seeped into terror as I anticipated what is to come. I could be dead, flat-out dead in an hour. Not even. Before I knew it, a cool female voice was announcing that it was time for launch. I walked over to the circular metal plate. A glass cylinder lowered around me and began to rise.

I'm not ready for this, who could possibly be ready for this?!

Claire McKenzie, 18- District 2 Female

Man was I ever ready for this. I've spent 12 years of my life training for this and I can't wait to get in on the action.

Jessamine Grey, 17- District 4 Female

Avoid action and run away from the bloodbath. Hide until the Careers take each other out. Then show them what I've got.

Derek Walker, 17- District 8 Male

I ain't no Career but I'll put up a hell of a fight.

Andreea Moore, 15- District 11 Female

Fuck me! I don't even know how to fight, the only way I'll win is if I get lucky!

Jeremiah Dipper, 17- District 9 Male

Seems like my luck's finally run out. Ah well, I've done all I could, let's make it a good one eh?

Julia Hill, 15- District 12 Female

Matt, I'll win for you, I promise.

Lustre Cardonell, 18- District 1 Male

Mom, dad, are you watching? Cause your son's gonna be making history.

I felt the metal plate pushing me out of the cylinder, into the open air. For a moment, my eyes are dazzled by the bright sunlight and I'm conscious of a gentle breeze and the smell of sweat and hay.

Then I heard the legendary announcer, Claudius Templesmith as his voice boomed all around us.

"Ladies and gentleman, let the Sixty-ninth Hunger Games begin!"

I licked my lips and surveyed the arena. To my left was a fountain where water gushing out of a stone lion's mouth. To my right was a straw dummy with a bull's-eye painted on it. We're on a flat stretch of ground, a plain of hard-packed dirt. No trees, no grass, no nothing. Behind me there was a wall. In fact, we were surrounded by four walls, the Gamemakers boxed us in!

Just as I was thinking that this would be the fastest games in Hunger Games history, one by one, several doors swung open with a clang. I couldn't see the inside from where I was standing, but as I craned my neck upward, I noticed the iconic battlements. This year, the arena was a castle.

I turned my attention to the Cornucopia, or lack of. This year, the weapons were arranged neatly on racks in the centre of the courtyard. Other supplies were strewn around, their value decreasing the farther they are from the weapons. Only a few steps from my feet lay a loaf of bread, but farther in lay an entire stuffed turkey, still piping-hot, evidenced by the aromatic smoke wafting from its body.

Not that it matters to me, I'm a Career, my goal was the set of throwing spears in the heart of the 'Cornucopia', the food would still be waiting after the bloodbath. I took a look around, my allies were nowhere to be seen. The Gamemakers were always sure to place tributes in an alliance together as far from each other as possible so the tributes are forced to find their allies first before running away. It only works out better for the Careers though, we can cover more ground if we're spread out.

I note the tributes on either side of me, the boy from Six and the girl from Nine. Easy kills, I don't even need a weapon I could probably snap their necks with my bare hands, but what kind of show would that be? I waited for the gong to ring out and made a mad dash for the weapons.

Gaston was the first one there, he grabbed a bow and a quiver of arrows. He fired a triple-salvo and a couple of tributes went down. I grabbed a spear and hurled it at the boy from Six. It went right through the centre of his chest and nailed him to the ground. He didn't die right away, but he'll bleed out before the end of the bloodbath. I grabbed another spear and felt someone grab it back. I turned around in annoyance and to my surprise, came face to face with the boy from Twelve.

Honestly, how stupid do you have to be to pick a fight with a Career in the frickin' bloodbath? No wonder District 12 hasn't had a victor in almost twenty years, either their mentor's giving out bullshit advice or they have some kind of problem upstairs. A blade appeared through his chest and he coughed up blood, releasing the spear and falling the ground.

"This is almost too easy," Tia grinned.

I ducked as an axe whirled past my head, burying itself in the back of the girl from Nine.

"Yup, too easy."

We fought back to back until the last tribute disappeared through the doors and re-grouped with our allies.

"How many did we get?" McKenzie asked, wiping the sweat off her forehead.

"1,2,3-" Tia started to count the bodies before the first cannon sounded.

I heard a loud splash and turned towards the fountain to see a black cannonball enbedded in the lion's head. _Huh? Where did that come from?_

Another cannon sounded and we looked up to see one hurtling right at us! We dove out of the way as it drove into itself into the ground creating a small crater. Holy shit! If that had hit us we would be dead!

"Guys, I think the Gamemakers are trying to tell us something, let's get the hell out of here," I yelled running up the stairs to one of the doors. They always wait for the killers to disperse before collecting the bloodbath bodies but jeez, give us some time!

Under the safety of the doorway, we watched cannonballs dropped one by one, seemingly from the sky into the courtyard. We winced as one landed on top of a dead body, watching it burst open and spray blood and guts everywhere.

Finally, the last cannon rang and it was silent.

"How many was that?" Tia asked.

"Twelve," Gaston answered. Then he farted.

McKenzie tentatively slipped down the stairs and counted the cannonballs.

"He's right, there's twelve balls down here and, oh shit!"

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"There's nothing left!" she exclaimed "The cannonballs destroyed all the weapons and stuff!"

We ran back down to the bloodbath to check. The remaining weapons were mangled beyond repair after a cannonball had landed smack-dab in the middle of the rack and the rest of the supplies were in similar shape. What were the Gamemakers playing at? Did they want us to lose? None of us knew jack shit about survival, we were counting on living off the supplies at the Cornucopia, damn it!

"Oh this simply won't do," Tia wailed.

Suddenly, a noxious odour filled the courtyard and my eyes began to water.

"Gaston!" we all shouted and turned to him.

"What? It's not me," he shrugged. Then he farted.

I wrinkled my nose, that does smell different, but if it wasn't him, then what was this gas? Well whatever it was, it probably wasn't good. We ran back into the castle, the door slamming behind us as we did so.

"Well," McKenzie panted "obviously the Gamemakers don't like the Careers this year. What did you guys manage to grab from the bloodbath?"

None of us had thought to grab anything, all we were carrying was our weapons that we had used. I had a single throwing spear, Tia had a sword, Gaston had a bow and arrows, and McKenzie had a throwing axe. Basically, we were screwed.

"Ok, ok, nobody panic," McKenzie said, pacing back and forth "we've got sponsors, let's see what our mentors can send us."

We looked at the ceiling hopefully, expecting the parachutes to materialize through it but nothing came.

"Damn," I sighed "guess we're on our own."

I dunno, maybe we shouldn't be so surprised, the Careers have been on a winning streak since the 62nd Hunger Games. Enobaria, Gloss, Cashmere, Finnick, Lyon, Essence, Romanus... the audience is probably sick of the same people winning over and over. We're trained and strong, but without proper food and weapons, the playing field becomes a lot more level.

Right now, it's anyone's game.


	21. Day 1 Julia & Derek

Julia Hill, 15- District 12 Female

* * *

><p>"Hey kids, listen up," Haymitch slurred, almost tripping over his own feet. Liquor sloshed out of his glass onto his grubby shirt but he didn't seem to notice.<p>

"When the gong songs, ah I mean sounds, man I'm drunk, run towards the bloodbath." He swayed back and forth as he tried to pour himself more liquor from his hip flask but missed his glass by a couple of centimetres.

"But won't that get us killed?" my partner asked.

"Yesh, but the Careers are so busy killing as mush people as possible that it'll be a quick, clean death. Ya don't wanna let them find you later. Trust me."

"What if we want to win?" I asked.

Haymitch let out a sarcastic bark of a laugh.

"Don't be stupid girl, nobody wins,"

"That's not true, you won," I pointed out.

He downed his glass in one gulp, wiped his mouth with his sleeve and looked me in the eye. "No I didn't girl, trust me, I didn't."

* * *

><p>I don't know what he's talking about. Haymitch is basically set for live with a nice house in Victor's Village and a hefty pension. If that's not winning what is? I decided not to take his advice because unlike him, I have a reason to live. Maybe if Haymitch would put down the bottle once in a while he'd realize his life was worth living too.<p>

According to dad, he and Haymitch used to be quite popular and they were actually friends when they were in school together. But then Haymitch changed after the games.

It had something to do with the fire that killed his family. There were always small fires flaring up in the Seam, something to do with the layer of coal dust covering every surface and floating in the air. The routine was to form an impromptu fire brigade by grabbing buckets and pots and assembling into two neat lines from the stream to the fire and passing water continuously towards the fire and filling up the bucks simultaneously.

Unfortunately, it coincided with a mandatory viewing and the Peacekeepers forbade everybody from leaving their homes or the square. By the time the mandatory viewing was over, it was too late. The fire had started to spread to the neighbouring houses and Haymitch's father, mother, younger brother, and girlfriend who was watching his interview with his family were burnt to death. When he arrived at the station, he knew. My father and Haymitch's other friends tried to be there for him but Haymitch pushed them away. They tried again and again to reach him, only to be brushed off, and eventually gave up. From then on, Haymitch was alone.

One day, when I was walking home from school, I saw my father talking to Haymitch. During that time, scarlet fever was tearing through the Seam and my father was desperate enough to ask Haymitch, the richest man in District 12, for help. It must have tore my father apart to swallow his pride and beg, but Haymitch just ignored my father and walked away like he didn't even know him. My mother died shortly after. I don't have too many friends myself, but if I was in the position to help, I wouldn't turn them away.

* * *

><p><em>Boom<em>

I jumped at the sound of the first cannon.

_Boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom boom_

Twelve cannons. I took a shaky breath and clasped a hand to my chest, feeling my heart beating rapidly. Half the tributes are dead, but I'm not one of them.

I'm not stupid, I've watched enough games to know that dying at the bloodbath was probably the most painless way to end the game, but nobody wins by giving up. Even if the chances are slim, I had to try. I wasn't going to disappear. I fingered my leather bracelet nervously, debating which direction to go.

Me and Niahm agreed on meeting in the northern part of the arena. I ran straight from the bloodbath into the castle and quickly lost my bearings without the direction of the sun to guide me. I took a deep breath. I recognized the arena as a castle for sure, but were all castles so big? The red-carpeted hallway could easily fit my entire house, I had been running for forever yet I feel I haven't come even close to the end.

And were the paintings always so creepy? I swear, their eyes follow me when I move. I took a few steps forward, and my suspicions were confirmed.

What time was it anyway? I haven't seen a single window in the gilded blue and gold papered walls, but it's not dark so I guess it must be daytime still unless... I looked up at the ceiling, trying to see if they have lights set up, but nothing except for a crystal chandelier every now and then.

I decided to turn left, and took the route into an area where the carpets were a regal purple and the paintings were simple landscapes. Passing a painting of a women in a lace petticoat staring at the sea, I was struck by how unusual this arena was. There's no wood, how do we make weapons?. And there's no lakes or wild game, what do we eat or drink? Surely there's more to the arena than this one building?

Pretty soon, I couldn't keep up my run and slowed down to a walk. With no weapons or energy left, if I ran into another tribute, or even a mutt I would be dead.

Eventually I encounter an elegant, lacquered mahogany stairway. I looked up, only to see an endless spiral. I decided to climb up, maybe I'll see where we are on the top of the roof. I licked my parched lips, right now what I really needed was water. The only source of water I remember is the fountain at the bloodbath, but that can't be it, when I get up to the roof I'll try to see if there's a lake or pond or something.

I took one step, then another until I was practically flying up the stairs.

* * *

><p><span>Derek Walker, 17- District 8 Male<span>

* * *

><p>I turned another corner and entered another part of the castle.<p>

_Whoah._ I blinked in surprise.

I glanced behind me. Scarlet carpeting with gold trim and immaculate white walls. In from of me was blue and white tiled flooring and a silver gilded walls with an arabesque motif. Well, I guess here's a good place as any to stop. I haven't stopped running since the bloodbath and I doubt any of the other tributes could catch up with me too quickly.

I sat on an ornate blue and gold armchair and shrugged off my pack. It was the only thing I grabbed from the bloodbath other than the loaf of bread at my feet. I unzipped it eagerly and dumped the contents onto my lap. A length of rope, a knife, a package of honeyed dates and a leather flask of water. I uncorked the flask and downed half. According to Cecelia, my first priority was to find water, the human body can survive for three weeks without food but only a couple of days without water. And feeling parched after just half a day, I believed her. I tore a chunk of bread from the loaf and chewed on it slowly as I walked towards the suit of armour in the corner of the room. I wouldn't know how to put it on even if it was my size, but I was interested in the silver sword it was holding. I hadn't managed to grab a weapon at the bloodbath because Cecelia had warned me not to get too close to the heart of the Cornucopia but hey, here was one risk free! I tried to bend the fingers of the glove back so I could remove the sword but it wouldn't budge. After trying for a few more minutes, I kicked the thing in frustration, hoping it would fall apart. It trembled for a second, then raised its arm with a creak and took a stiff step forward. Holy crap, it just came to life! I jumped out of the way as it swung its sword down, narrowly missing my head. I backed away, and it followed me, stretching out its arms and legs as if it had just awoken from a nap. It was so life-like, it was just creepy. I raised my fists, and made a 'come here' gesture with my head. It raised its sword and charged at me, but I wove deftly in and out of the path of its sword. During its upswing, I pulled my fist back and connected hard with its breastplate. It fell backwards on its back and came apart. _Well that easier than expected. _I picked up the helmet and looked inside. Nothing, it was completely empty. I shrugged and picked up the sword. Whatever, I was up a weapon and the games were starting to look pretty good.

The anthem blared. Usually they broadcasted the day's causalities in the sky but I wondered what they were going to do when we're all indoors. I walked over to a window and peered out into the starry sky.

The first to appear were the tributes from District 3. Then the tributes from five. I guess that means all the Careers made it out of the bloodbath, as usual. Then the boy from Six, both from Seven, my partner, both from Ten, and the boys from Eleven and Twelve.

In just one day, half the tributes were gone and I made it to the top twelve. But can I actually make it to the very top?

* * *

><p>...<p>

I started being called Duke Derek when I was twelve.

It was at my first Reaping, I didn't know where I was supposed to go so I followed the guy in front of me to the seventeens. I accidentally stepped on his shoelace and he tripped over his own feet. The punk got angry and took a swing at me. So I swung back. He wasn't expecting it so I had the element of surprise on my side. While he was wondering what the fuck had happened, I smashed his face in.

Back then, I didn't even know he was Bloody Baron, the number one street fighter at the time. He was just some guy who needed to learn not to mess with me. Since everybody in the frickin District saw it all happen in person, word spread that twelve-year-old Duke Derek was the new number one. During that period, I got challenged at least twice a day. Fucking hell, it was the most annoying period of my life. I guess I could have purposely thrown the fights and given up my title, but pretend to lose to these tools? Nah, not a chance. I was actually relieved when Lord Ambrose finally kicked my ass. People finally started to leave me alone and I thought I was home free.

But then his lordship was reaped. He made it to the top four, and we actually thought he was gonna win. Unfortunately, he ran into the boy from Two and after a three-hour showdown, he eventually bled to death. He put up a good fight though, and weakened the boy from Two badly. By the time the chick from One with the victor brother found him, it was no contest.

Well that sucked. Not only did we miss out on our victory party, but I was back on top. My life went back to daily challenges, I couldn't even take a piss at school without being jumped. When I was fifteen I finally got beat by Lady Freja, some chick that fought even dirtier than me. She modified her brass knuckles and heels with sharp tools she must have stole from a factory. Man, that was just low. Impressive though.

But then she got knocked up and had to retire. Fucking hell, I just can't catch a break. Last I heard, she named her kid after me.

It was like I was cursed or something, so eventually I just accepted that it was just my destiny.

* * *

><p>Without me in the running, I wondered who the top fighter in District 8 was now. I bet it's a warzone down there and all the idiots pounding each other to find out who's the best.<p>

Meh, sucks for them cause I'm coming back.

**A/N Yeah you guys should know I'm trying to become a rapper, so I wrote this hella-dope rap. Tell me what you think of it in the reviews.**

**Rooster**

Yeah, yeah, uh, yeah, yeah, uh x 6

Hook

Cocka-doodle-doo

I'm risin' up like the morning glory

L times D, plus W over G,

Over A squared, thanks Randy

I walk into the barn like, what up I am a big cock

I ain't playin around, getting all the chicks from my swag flock

King of the barnyard, jumpin' in the fray

Rollin' in the hay kickin' ass till they bray

Swagger on, bag her deep, stagger home where I fall asleep

Big bird's the word, put it on repeat, I'm elite, sweeping up the keep

Haven't you heard? I'm the reason the fat lady sings

Flyin' higher, 'cept I got vestigial wings

(But damn, they taste good fried in batter!)

Poppin' it, glockin' it, pullin' out, know when to split

Dodging Old Mcdonald, cause he don't know when to quit

The realest, the illest, but fuck it bitch,

I'm pimpin' and scrimpin', I'm hella rich

Imma do it rooster style, do it do it rooster style

I saw a hungry kitty, I fed a hungry kitty,

I rode a horny filly, and then I sucked a titty

Whaddup, whaddup, my home boy 'sup

Hangin' under the banana tree for them vitamin D, yup

When I'm takin' a leak, all the peeps come admire

I'm the dick chicks desire, the manger messiah


	22. Day 2 Andreea & Niahm

Andreea Moore, 15- District 11 Female

"Mornin' Andreea," Zeon yawned.

"Wha- morning already?" I mumbled, raising my head from the desk. I glanced down at Zeon rubbing the sleep from his eyes, a ray of sunlight from the window falling across his beautiful face.

During the bloodbath we had met up to the left of the pedestals, picking up supplies on the way. Between the two of us we had several flasks of water, a few knives, rope, packets of dried beef and hard tack, a sleeping bag, and a roast turkey.

We had spent the first day exploring, and then decided to rest for the night in this library when it got too dark to continue. We settled in the corner amid the towering shelves of books and had planned on sleeping in shifts but I guess I fell asleep on watch.

I stood up and stretched, then clutched my back in pain. "Ow!" Sleeping upright, even in a luxurious velvet-cushioned chair was beyond painful, how did I manage to fall asleep?

"Do you want me to give you a back rub?" Zeon asked.

I nodded and laid down on the plush red carpet. I felt him straddle my back and massage me deeply with his long fingers. Oh that felt really good, I was started to get turned on. And because of the way he was pressing on me, I could feel he was getting turned on as well. In the end, the back rub turned into sex, which I should have seen coming.

After we finished, we ate the rest of the turkey. Hey, sex makes me hungry and it was going to go bad soon anyway.

"Which direction should we go?" he asked.

"How about downstairs?" Yesterday, we had passed a set of stairs leading to the basement. We had debated on taking it, but it was dark and we couldn't see what was down there. We were holding wooden torches that had automatically lit on fire when it turned to night, but even then we could barely see one meter in front of us. Now that it was morning though, vision shouldn't be a problem.

We checked to make sure the coast was clear before leaving the library. We closed the door with a click and full-out ran to the stairway.

"Stop!" Zeon held out his arm "It might be a trap."

He placed his foot gingerly on the first step, but nothing happened. He crept down step by step as I followed.

When we were finally downstairs, I took a look around. Metal tools and instruments lined the walls and the ominous wooden spiked chairs and tables on the ground looked worn with use. I shuddered. What the fuck was up with this place?

I walked towards an iron cabinet with a hinged front and spike covered interior.

"What the hell is this thing?"

"That's an iron maiden," Zeon said as he walked inside, "shut the door for me will you?."

"Won't it hurt?"

"Yep, but that's the point, it feels good."

I rolled my eyes and slammed the door.

Zeon moaned with pleasure and I wondered, did it really feel good to hurt?

* * *

><p>I lost my virginity when I was thirteen. Don't feel sorry for me, I wasn't tricked or mislead and no one took advantage of me, I was just bored and agreed when Thomas Root asked me if I wanted to do it.<p>

At first, all I could think about was how much it hurt, but then Lisa Morissette walked in on us.

I remember her face like it was yesterday. The wide open eyes, trembling bottom lip, and her schoolbag slipping off her shoulder onto the ground with a thump.

I practically heard her heart crack.

During the awkward silence I wondered what I should do. Was I supposed to put on my clothes and leave? Slap Thomas like 'you never told me you had a girlfriend'? Apologize to Lisa?

"Thomas... I hate you," she whispered, walking away away.

I turned to Thomas to see his face twist with guilt and shame.

And for some twisted reason, it felt good.

It made me feel powerful to know I could make people suffer, I got a sick thrill everytime a girl cried over her cheating boyfriend and a boy regretted ruining a relationship that could never be repaired.

It felt good to make people hurt.

* * *

><p>I heard a rustle behind me and swiveled around to see the girl from Nine peering at me from under a pile of hay.<p>

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" I purred.

She jumped and tried to make a run for it.

"Oh no you don't," I snarled, chasing after her.

It was pretty clear from her glassy eyes and staggering run that she wasn't as lucky as us during the bloodbath. I had seen dehydration in past games, and she was a classic case. I caught up to her quickly and tackled her to the ground.

"Let me go," she protested weakly.

"Why? Wouldn't you like to have a little fun?" I felt a wicked grin spread from ear to ear.

"What's going on?" Zeon asked, catching up to us with small puncture marks from his forehead to chest.

"Look at what we got here, what should we do with her?" I smirked and eyed the torture devices. I could started becoming positively giddy at the thought of playing with my new toy.

"Oh! Ummmm, let's hook her up to this one," Zeon said excitedly, pointing to a wooden table with belts on the corners and cranks at both ends.

We strapped her wrists and ankles so that she was spread out on top of the table. The girl barely put up a fight, she seemed to have resigned and accepted her inevitable fate.

Me and Zeon simultaneously turned the handles on either side side slowly. The girl from Nine started stretching from the trunk, then from her arms and legs. Her high-pitched screams echoed through the walls but we didn't stop. We continued until she split apart from the centre and her guts spilled out into the table. I was vaguely aware the dull boom of the cannon but was too giddy to pay attention to anything other than the tortured expression lingering on her face and the memories of her cries for mercy.

"Wow, the Gamemakers really went all out this year," Zeon remarked, turning his attention to an array of whips and flails on the wall behind us.

Bored already with the dead tribute, he selected a black riding crop and handed it to me.

"Hit me, he demanded," pulling down his pants and bending over.

I happily obliged, marking his smooth skin with angry red lashes.

For the rest of the day we played with all the fun toys the Gamemakers put here for us. How much screentime they gave us though, I really don't know. I always thought it was weird that they proudly zoomed in on the blood and guts stuff during the mandatory viewings but pulled away from tributes about to get nasty. Which described me and Zeon to a T.

The more I hurt him, the more he seemd to enjoy it. If I had met him back home, we might have actually had a relationship.

They say opposites attract. A sadist and a masochist, what a perfect match.

* * *

><p>Niahm Steavlen, 17- District 6 Female<p>

I pressed my hand to my rumbling stomach, desperately trying to ignore the pain. I hadn't eaten since yesterday at launch, and that was barely a nibble because I was so nervous. I regretted not stuffing my face, I hasn't picked up anything from the bloodbath except for a flask of water. I was so hungry I felt like I could faint any minute now.

I had run to the nearest doorway and veered North, planning to meet up with Julia but I never ran into her. She probably got lost, it's a maze in here! Hallways, doors, similar decor with a different colour scheme, it was easy to get lose one's bearings.

I turned a corner and skidded to a halt. I sniffed the air tentatively and my mouth began to water. Was it my imagination or...? I closed my eyes and followed the wafting odour until I came across a wooden door. Whatever was making that smell was clearly behind it so I pulled the door open to reveal... a kitchen!

My eyes landed on a pot of lamb stew was bubbling on the stove. So that's what was producing that delectable aroma! I lifted the ladle to my lips eagerly and took a slurp.

Owww! Hothothothot! Ok maybe that wasn't such a good idea. I spied a loaf of bread and a wheel of cranberry-wrapped cheese on the counter and tore into that hungrily. When the pain in my stomach slowly subsided and I was able to think clearly, I realized that I really should have tested for poison first. It was too late now though, and the food didn't taste bitter and I didn't feel ill at all, which I took for a good sign. I managed to chew slower and took a look around.

It was something straight of a children's picture book, a hog with an apple in its mouth turning over a spit in the fire, a bag of potatos next to the stove, and a mish mash of breads and cheeses on the counter. A loud squawk alerted me to the stack of caged birds and wild game in the corner. I walked over to take a closer look.

Wait, was that Cinnamon?!

I opened the bottom cage and scooped up the light brown rabbit in my arms. Oh it was! The Gamemakers must have put him in just for me! With my lucky charm with me, I couldn't lose.

* * *

><p>I found Cinnamon one day on the way home from school. Me and Anya were biking home, following our usual route when a light brown blur hopped in front of me, causing me to veer wildly to the side, almost falling off my bike.<p>

"Omg he's sooooo cute!" I squealed.

"Niahm, leave it alone," Anya said, exasperated.

"I bet it wants to come home with me, do you want to come live with me little buddy?" I asked, chasing after him on my bike.

"Rabbits can't even talk-oh why do I even bother?" Anya sighed, following me.

We followed him to the train tracks where he hopped in the middle of the tracts and fell over on his back. Right in the path of a train hurtling at top speed! Oh no, he was going to be crushed!

I leapt off my bike and dashed towards him.

"No Niahm, stop! It's too dangerous!" Anya cried after me.

I ignored her and dove towards the tracts, grabbing the rabbit and landing on the other side just as the train chugged by. I clutched him to my racing heart, panting from the exhilaration. I could have easily died, but I didn't, because I was holding onto this lucky rabbit.

Later, Anya yelled at me for putting my life in danger over a rabbit but I tuned her out and named him Cinnamon, for the colour of his fur. He's never tried to run away from me, even when I tried to set him free, which meant he was mine.

* * *

><p>I dumped him in my purse, and smelled a familiar, unpleasant odour wafting from the door followed by a familiar obnoxious voice. The boy from Two! I quickly looked around, only one doorway, I'm trapped!<p>

I frantically opened the cupboard door below the counter, thankfully empty, and crammed myself and Cinnamon inside just as the Careers entered.

"Oh there's _food," _I heard the girl from one moan.

I heard the sounds of their feet getting closer, until I could see their legs through a crack in the cupboard. My heart pounded rapidly, if they only thought to open the cupboards, I'll be dead!

Luckily they seemed to be more preoccupied with eating than hunting.

"What a piece of luck, stumbling on the kitchen," the boy from One said, with a mouthful of food "still can't believe the Gamemakers destroyed everything in the Cornucopia though."

"I told you, nobody's sense of smell is as good as Gaston's," the boy from two boasted. Then he farted.

For the next few minutes nobody spoke as they busied themselves with the food. The wheels in my head started turning as I processed what he just said. So the Careers have no supplies, that's why they're so hungry!

"This is a kitchen right? So there should be knives," I heard the girl from Two say.

Oh no, were they going to start looking around now?

"Hey, I found a whole bunch in here," the girl from One called.

I heard a dull clunk above my head and I almost screamed.

"Piece of shit knives," the girl from Two grunted "balance is off, can't throw straight. And they aren't worth jack in a straight-up fight."

"Let's just grab the food for now and look for weapons after," the boy from One suggested.

The rest of the Careers murmured in agreement and split up.

_Pleasedontfindmepleasedonttfindmepleasedontfindme_

After what seemed like an eternity, the Careers were finally satisfied and left the kitchen, slamming the door behind them. I counted to a hundred before opening the cupboard door slowly and climbing up. I took a shaky breath and let it out. That was close!

I looked up to where the girl from Two threw her knife to see it embedded to the hilt in the wall.

I walked to the drawer left open by the girl from One and picked up a kitchen knife. I sank it into the counter where it cut through it like butter.

Amazing, I had never seen knives like this before. What the girl from Two was talking about?

Knowing they would come in handy, I tucked a couple in my belt.


End file.
